ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Philipp Fluri
In 2001, the Swiss Ministry of Foreign Affairs mandated four projects to DCAF for
implementation within Switzerland’s commitments to the Stability Pact, forming an
overall contribution to the Stability Pact Table III Programmes.
The projects were:
1) A Security Sector Governance Self Assessment Study in Albania, Bulgaria,
Croatia, Macedonia, Moldova, and Romania1
2) A South East Europe Documentation Network on the Internet2
3) A Needs Assessment in Security Sector Governance Expert Formation3
4) A Defence Budget Transparency Study
All these projects have come to successful conclusions and were formally handed
over to the Seventh Meeting of the Stability Pact Working Table III in Dubrovnik,
Croatia on 26th May 2003.
DCAF, true to its mandate, has sought to cooperate on these projects wherever
possible with the established experts in the field. We were specially fortunate to find
Dr. David Greenwood, Research Director at the Centre for European Security
Studies, the outstanding expert with a long record of regional involvement, who was
willing and able to both conceptually develop and implement this particular task, the
fourth of DCAF’s Swiss MFA mandates.
The present volume is the result of Dr. Greenwood’s comprehensive efforts to bring
into clear relief the status and future trajectories of defence budget transparency in
South East Europe for which we are highly appreciative.
Dr. Philipp H. Fluri
Deputy Director
Geneva Centre for the Democratic Control of Armed Forces
1
Philipp H. Fluri and Jan A. Trapans (eds.), Defence and Security Sector Governance and Reform in
South East Europe: Insights and Perspectives Volumes 1 & 2, (Belgrade/Geneva: CCMR, 2003);
available at http://www.dcaf.ch/partners/Stability_Pact/home.html
2
http://www.seedon.org
3
Philipp Fluri and David Law (eds.), Security Sector Expert Formation: Achievements and Needs in
South East Europe, (Wien: LaVAk, 2003) available at
http://www.dcaf.ch/partners/Expert_Formation/home.html
FOREWORD
Jean-Jacques de Dardel
The chain reaction that led to the implosion of the Soviet construct has not subsided
with the fall of the Berlin Wall. International relations and security affairs have
continued ever since their momentous organic transformation at an unrelenting pace,
and the end of their moulting period does not appear to be in sight. Some changes
seemed to happen almost overnight, and owed little to rational decision-making.
Others seemed more controlled, as they were the result of wilful steering. All in all,
the many calls for change did produce a positive advancement of institutions, freer
societies and a remarkable growth of cooperation among countries of Eurasia and
North America.
But this dynamic evolution is by no means linear. It is fraught with tensions and fears,
because change is more often than not associated by worried minds with
uncertainties and possible personal regression. However positive the outcome,
however wide and evident the progress, every process of change entails great efforts
at adjusting to new peculiarities, and requires constant guidance. Security Sector
Reform (SSR) certainly falls within this category of necessary, positive but
sometimes painful changes that need enlightened coaching, lest they be seen as a
mindless dismantlement of proven certainties. Yet, an extended decade of wide
ranging reforms has provided ample proof that SSR is an indispensable element of
the
overall
transformation
towards
open,
democratic,
market-oriented
and
constitutionally guided societies. Such reform not only makes the security apparatus
more efficient. It also makes it more accountable to democratic standards and the
rule of law, which are essential factors for stability.
Switzerland has put SSR high on its EAPC/PfP agenda and actively promotes this
topic as one of the central Swiss contributions to the Euro-Atlantic community. The
establishment of the Geneva Centre for the Democratic Control of the Armed Forces
(DCAF) in 2000 has been a shining symbol of this commitment. The pooling of
resources and expertise, as well as the diffusion of applied knowledge is one of the
main strengths and purposes of DCAF. The Centre also benefits from it's unique
position in Geneva, that celebrated ´peace capital` of a wider world, since its location
provides for close cooperation with many other relevant actors and institutions active
in the broader international security context.
The present publication provides a detailed analysis of the status, successes and
failures of Defence Budget Transparency-Building in South East Europe. This inquiry
– conducted by David Greenwood of the Centre for European Security Studies
(CESS) in cooperation with DCAF – is an important step in a comprehensive reform
process. It is critical to assess the current state of all aspects of the security sector
and to evaluate weaknesses, strengths and requirements for change. It offers a
reference tool that should make it readily possible to tackle specific problems and
design well-tailored projects.
But however finely crafted the tool, it will only be as good as it is put to use: the most
important challenge lies in the implementation of the reform projects. Real progress
can only be achieved if the target countries and their various layers of decisionmakers perceive the real needs for reform. In that sense, concrete, down-to-earth
and flexible concepts are needed to support tailor-made reforms of the security
sector that will meet as wide as possible an acceptance among all concerned. High
level political will is necessary, but so are bottom-up approaches that include the key
domestic stakeholders and take into account their reasoned points of view. As for
external actors, such as international organisations, states, think-tanks and NGOs,
they can provide targeted support to the implementation of novel policies as
facilitators and advisors.
Switzerland endeavours to support the reforms underway in the security sector of
many partner countries. We believe that by maintaining our commitment in this field
and by accompanying the transformation processes underway, we can contribute to
the further stabilisation and sustainable development of countries and regions that
we know are important to us and our own future.
Dr. Jean-Jacques de Dardel
Head
Centre for International Security Policy
Federal Department of Foreign Affairs
Switzerland
PREFACE
David Greenwood
This book records the results of research undertaken in 2002 to illuminate policy and
practice with respect to transparency and accountability in the conduct of defence
affairs in the eight countries that are the designated ‘beneficiaries’ of the Stability
Pact for South-Eastern Europe: namely Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Bulgaria,
Croatia, (the Former Yugoslav Republic of) Macedonia, Moldova, Romania plus what
was then the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (FRY) and is now Serbia and
Montenegro.
The inquiry was carried out by the Centre for European Security Studies (CESS) –
located at Groningen in The Netherlands – on behalf of, and funded by, the Geneva
Centre for the Democratic Control of Armed Forces (DCAF).
For DCAF, the exercise represented one of the first original research undertakings of
the organisation’s Working Group on Transparency and a practical contribution to the
work of the Stability Pact (Working Table III, Security and Defence). It was also a
logical follow-on to the ‘stocktaking’ regional symposium on transparency that the
Geneva Centre had arranged in mid-2001. Held in Sofia, with the co-operation of the
Bulgarian Ministry of Defence, this event yielded a volume of largely official accounts
of South-East European policy and practice – Todor Tagarev (ed.) Transparency in
Defence Policy, Military Budgeting and Procurement, (Sofia, 2002) – to which this
independent study is complementary.
There were good reasons for entrusting the investigative assignment to CESS. For a
decade now the Groningen Centre has been designing and delivering security
education and training programmes, and researching civil-military relations and
defence-related institutional reform, throughout Central and Eastern Europe; and it
has built up an extensive network of local contacts in the process. Most important, in
recent years the Centre has been very active in South-Eastern Europe and – of
special relevance here – helped in formulation and implementation of the pathbreaking regional Budget Transparency Initiative (BTI) under the auspices of the
Stability Pact.
As CESS’s Research Director – and one of the architects of the BTI venture – I took
on the role of Project Director and Principal Investigator for the eight-nation inquiry
reported here; and local input was solicited from contacts in the target countries. In
addition we recruited a Researcher, Ruta Avulyte, to help in the collection and
collation of material for the project and to assemble a database of documents and
website links.
The heart of the present work is the series of ‘country transparency profiles’ that
make up Part Two of the volume. The essential research for these essays was done
in January-August 2002. Drafts were discussed at a Roundtable held in Zagreb in
the middle of September. Revised drafts were prepared for the International Security
Forum in Zurich in mid-October and presented to the DCAF-sponsored Workshop IV
at that gathering. Thereafter this material was refined and updated, Parts One and
Three were written, and a project Report was submitted to DCAF. Since then there
has been some further revision of the work, principally to take into account reviewers’
comments.
For their provision of input for the core profiles, thanks are due to several ‘country
correspondents’ and other commentators. In the former category I am especially
indebted to Sokol Berberi, Dimitar Dimitrov, George Grama, and Bisera Turkovic,
plus a number of public office-holders who should remain unnamed. Among those
who contributed observations on various drafts – principally in or after the Zagreb
and Zurich meetings – I am particularly grateful to Christian Haupt, Mihaela Ionescu
and Marc Remillard.
It is also appropriate to acknowledge here the research
assistance provided by CESS staff Jos Boonstra and Sander Maathuis, and the
secretarial help of Margaret McRobb and Joke Venema.
It goes without saying that none of these individuals is responsible for the use that
has been made of their input(s) or for the conclusions, judgements and
recommendations recorded in the following pages.
As Project Director/Principal
Investigator for the inquiry reported, and author of this text, that burden rests on me.
David Greenwood
CESS
Groningen
CHAPTER ONE
____________________________________________________
INTRODUCTION
Attention to improving transparency in the conduct of defence affairs generally, and
about military spending particularly, has been a significant feature of the experience
of Central and Eastern Europe, including the countries of South-Eastern Europe,
throughout the post-Cold War period.
It accompanied the domestication and
democratisation of defence decision-making in the former Warsaw Pact nations that
took place from the early 1990s. It was an element in the establishment of a regime
of Confidence- and Security Building Measures (CSBMs) to which the Organisation
for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) devoted much effort around the
middle of that decade (affecting all of its 50-plus member states).
Not until 1999, however, did transparency-building receive a decisive impetus. There
were three sources.
First, at the OSCE level revised information-exchange
provisions were introduced to the system of CSBMs and set out in an updated text,
the Vienna Document 1999 (or VD99, for short).
Secondly, aspirants to NATO
membership were expressly enjoined to embrace ‘democratic-style civil-military
relations’ – with appropriate regard to transparency and accountability – in following a
monitored Membership Action Plan (MAP) route to possible accession. Thirdly, and
most significantly for South-Eastern Europe, the Stability Pact (SP) for the area was
concluded; and it was decided that in the field of ‘security and defence’ – under
Working Table III in the SP’s structure – there should be effort to promote
transparency in military matters across the region, in the interests of both fostering
good governance within states and building trust between states.
The year 2001 was noteworthy for the appearance of first evidence of the fruits of
this SP-related effort, in the form of concrete steps to enhance defence transparency
and accountability (with particular reference to military expenditure). In March, a
path-breaking Budget Transparency Initiative was launched in Vienna, following
several months preparatory work by the governments of Bulgaria and the United
Kingdom.
Soon after, the Geneva Centre for the Democratic Control of Armed
Forces (DCAF) – in association with the Bulgarian Ministry of Defence – convened a
landmark symposium in Sofia: formally to take stock on ‘transparency of defence
policy, military budgeting and procurement’ in the region; and implicitly to
contemplate the way ahead. This gathering provided a valuable overview of then
current practice in South-Eastern Europe – including the eight SP ‘beneficiary’ states
– thanks to the (mainly official) accounts that delegates delivered. It also yielded
useful indications of desirable next steps (of which, more below).
There were local ‘beneficiary’-state actions of note in 2001 as well. Some were taken
by the individual MAP-states of the neighbourhood – Albania, Bulgaria, (the former
Yugoslav Republic of) Macedonia, and Romania – to meet NATO’s expectations and
requirements ahead of the next year’s Prague Summit (at which, of course, Bulgaria
and Romania received their expected invitations to accession).
developments elsewhere too, however.
There were
In Bosnia and Herzegovina the OSCE
Mission announced a military expenditure reduction initiative aimed not only at
discouraging excessive spending but also at raising public awareness of resourceuse and encouraging citizens to demand transparency and accountability in the
resource allocation process. In Croatia and what was then the Federal Republic of
Yugoslavia
(FRY)
the
post-Tudjman
and
post-Milosevic
regimes
at
least
acknowledged the imperative of some security-sector reform, including transparencybuilding. (In Moldova, though, the powers-that-be had – and still have – yet to be
persuaded.)
Purpose of Study
The present study reports research prompted by the DCAF-sponsored symposium in
Sofia. Reflecting on that event, DCAF concluded that there would be merit in an
independent inquiry to complement the mainly official accounts of South-East
European policy and practice presented there. To be specific, an expert investigation
would be able to follow a more critical line, leading to more robust recommendations
on ‘next steps’ perhaps. Moreover, it would offer a more systematic stocktaking,
based on a considered, consistent and coherent approach to the assessment of
transparency and accountability in the conduct of defence affairs across the region.
Indeed, to that end it would have to devise an assessment methodology potentially
serviceable not only for a one-off 2002 ‘transparency audit’ but also for possible
follow-on work aimed at measuring progress – or the lack of it – in regional
transparency improvement.
Nor would a sound methodology be restricted in application to South-Eastern
Europe, of course.
Given DCAF’s global remit, extension to ‘audit’ exercises
covering the Soviet Union’s successor states might commend itself at some stage
(for example), as might work on policy and practice in, say, Latin America or Africa.
(Interestingly, in 1998 at San Salvador the Organization of American States (OAS)
adopted a declaration on CSBMs clearly modelled on the OSCE’s; and at its
inaugural meeting in 2001 the Conference on Security, Stability, Development and
Co-operation in Africa (CSSDCA) included on its agenda – in the security ‘basket’ –
consideration of machinery to monitor military expenditures.)
What is reported in the following pages, therefore, is a research project incorporating
an important methodological component, notwithstanding its principal focus on
describing and evaluating defence transparency within and among the eight SP
‘beneficiary’ states of South-Eastern Europe.
Structure and Content
Methodology comes first. It is the subject-matter of the two following chapters of Part
One.
In Chapter Two the analytical approach is outlined, with appropriate supporting
argument.
An important objective here is to elucidate concepts and establish a
working vocabulary: to explain clearly what the terms used in the remainder of the
study mean, and what connotations they carry. The busy reader to whom this is
familiar territory may choose to skip the main exposition and proceed to the
immediately following supplement (‘Terminology’) – a recapitulation of the essential
reasoning of the chapter.
To guide fact-finding and opinion-canvassing on policy and practice in individual
states it was necessary to devise a template for our eight country profiles; or, put
another way, to ‘operationalise’ the aforementioned analytical framework. For this
purpose it was decided to compose a (long) list of ‘working questions’: for the
researchers’ own use in desk research and interviewing; and for the use of our local
‘country correspondents’ (see Preface).
This guide was drawn up in a
straightforward way, by asking: ‘what are the detailed questions to which we shall
need answers if we are going to describe and evaluate defence transparency in the
target-states comprehensively?’ The process of selecting the detailed questions is
elucidated in Chapter Three.
Part Two is the heart of the work – the country profiles themselves. As noted, there
are eight of them (Chapters Four to Six), covering Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovina,
Bulgaria, Croatia, (the Former Yugoslavia Republic of) Macedonia, Moldova,
Romania plus Serbia and Montenegro (as the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia has
now become).
Reflecting the research template, each of these essays conforms to a more or less
standard lay-out. Incorporated are
•
observations on the transparency culture in the country under scrutiny;
•
a description of how democratic accountability is provided for, in theory and in
practice;
•
material on what arrangements ensure domestic transparency of defence
affairs (policy-making and planning, programming, budgeting and budget
execution) plus whatever regular publications sustain it;
•
commentary on what attention the country in question pays to international
transparency, with particular reference to spending and budgets; and
•
‘country-specific’ summary conclusions.
Furthermore, each of the profiles is a more or less self-contained piece, though they
can be read as a whole, preferably in the (alphabetical) order in which they appear
here (because there is the occasional cross-reference).
Part Three comprises two chapters. The first of these, Chapter Twelve, is a collation
of headline conclusions from the profiles. It contains few surprises. On the evidence
assembled here, the soon-to-be NATO members, Bulgaria and Romania, emerge as
the South-East European countries that take defence transparency most seriously. In
our rough-and-ready ratings, the other MAP-states of the neighbourhood – Albania,
Macedonia and (since 2002) Croatia – fall some way behind that pair, Albania a long
way behind.
Policy and practice in Bosnia and Herzegovina and in Serbia and
Montenegro (the latter assessed on the basis of FRY experience) put these countries
in a third echelon. On any reckoning Moldova is the back-marker among the SP
‘beneficiary’ states in the transparency stakes.
As it happens this is the regional pecking order that one finds in the World Bank
Institute’s 2001 assessment of ‘voice and accountability’ – an approximate equivalent
to our qualitative measures of good governance – as is explained in Chapter Twelve.
Transparency building finally comes into focus in the concluding chapter of the book,
Chapter Thirteen. Here we identify what action should commend itself to – or be
urged upon – individual South-East European countries, to remedy evident
shortcomings and bring their national policy and practice at least up to the standard
of the best in the neighbourhood. We discuss also what practical steps to enhance
defence transparency all the countries of the region might be encouraged to take,
and consider how such encouragement might be given.
Postscript
A last word is in order on the scope of the investigation reported here. There is a
general appreciation nowadays that transparency matters not just where military
affairs are concerned but, like many other things, in the conduct of security-sector
affairs generally. That is undoubtedly the case. In this inquiry, however, attention is
concentrated on the conduct of our South-East European countries’ defence
business and on their fighting Services. The analysis does not cover other ‘armed
structures of the state’ – such as police forces – or security services and intelligence
agencies. (These have, of course, been the subject of other studies. For example,
there is relevant material in the two volumes yielded by the ‘self-assessment’
exercise that DCAF organised in 2002, covering Albania, Bulgaria, Croatia,
Macedonia, Moldova and Romania.)1
1
Philipp H. Fluri and Jan A. Trapans (eds.), Defence and Security Sector Governance and Reform in
South East Europe: Insights and Perspectives - A Self Assessment Study; Volume 1 Albania, Bulgaria,
Croatia, (Belgrade/Geneva: CCMR, 2003); Philipp H. Fluri and Jan A. Trapans (eds.), Defence and
Security Sector Governance and Reform in South East Europe: Insights and Perspectives - A Self
Assessment Study; Volume 2 Macedonia, Moldova, Romania, (Belgrade/Geneva: CCMR, 2003).
Further information available at http://www.dcaf.ch/partners/Stability_Pact/home.html
CHAPTER TWO
____________________________________________________
ANALYSING TRANSPARENCY AND ACCOUNTABILITY
You start from where you are. Thus, while observations on transparency building are
the destination to which this study heads, it will bear repeating that its central
purpose is to describe and evaluate current policy and practice in the conduct of
military affairs in the South-East European states of interest.
It constitutes a
contemporary transparency audit.
It follows that, as explained in Chapter One, the core of the work is the eight country
profiles that make up Part Two of this text. These explore and assess how open (or
transparent) is the conduct of military affairs in, respectively, Albania, Bosnia and
Herzegovina (BiH), Bulgaria, Croatia, (the Former Yugoslav Republic of) Macedonia,
Moldova, Romania, plus Serbia and Montenegro (as the Federal Republic of
Yugoslavia (FRY) became in 2003).This material yields information and insight – and
evidence of ‘good practice’ – without which there can be no satisfactory basis for
considering how to promote ‘better practice’ (assessed by reference to whatever is
regarded as ‘best practice’).
The objective of the present chapter is to elucidate the inquiry’s analytical framework
and the approach adopted in performing this core task of exploration and
assessment. Thus it is a necessary methodological exercise designed to clarify the
concepts and establish the vocabulary for this investigation. At the same time, as
has been noted, the essential argument is potentially relevant for any transparencyrelated research, and may have some independent value on that account. (The
same goes for the practical guide to profiling that is derived from it, the subject-matter
of the following chapter).
Metaphor as meaning
The obvious point of departure is: in this context as others, what exactly do we mean
by transparency?
This is not a trivial question. Despite its extensive use in discourse on governance –
verging on overuse, in fact – there is no single satisfactory definition of the word in
the professional literature, and certainly not a succinct one. Instead we have what
the logicians call a ‘definition in use’: generally speaking, we understand what the
term means, as concept or condition, from the connotations it carries and the setting
in which we encounter it.
More often than not, and assuredly when we are dealing with politics and public
administration, understanding is derived from an image. Put simply, in this setting,
we adopt the idea that (metaphorically speaking) there is, or should be, a glazed
window or windows through which it is possible to see how the business of
government is being carried on in a state, region or municipality – or, indeed, in any
public organisation (or private corporation for that matter).
‘Seeing’ here implies both a willingness on the part of the authorities (or ‘insiders’) to
show what they are doing and the ability of elected representatives, the media and,
indeed, society-at-large (or ‘outsiders’) to view what is going on.
The metaphor of fenestration is not only useful but versatile. Among other things, it
admits the possibility of government that is not open to scrutiny of its military (or
other) affairs at all: business is carried on in secrecy – ‘behind closed doors’ or, in
this context, covered windows. Furthermore, it accommodates circumstances where
the powers-that-be do not ‘show what they are doing’ clearly: the glass in the window
is dark or frosted or simply dirty – translucent but not transparent. (In colloquial
terms, we are aware that something is going on in government – that politicians are
‘up to something’ maybe – but it is impossible to discern precisely what.)
These latter possibilities raise a key issue: do governments have a duty to show, and
do ‘outsiders’ have the right to view, how official business is done? We turn to this
question presently.
Staying with our elementary understanding of ‘transparency’ for a moment, it is
appropriate to register here that the notion has two aspects:
•
the ease or difficulty with which a country’s own legislature (plus the media,
interest groups, ‘civil society’ and the public-at-large) can ‘see’ what is going
on, or domestic transparency; and
•
the ease or difficulty with which other countries can observe that state’s
military affairs, or international transparency.
The distinction is important because the answer to the question just posed – about a
government’s duty and observers’ right(s) – has two components: one relating to
domestic constituencies, the other to the international community.
Accountability
So far as domestic transparency is concerned, the argument rests on the proposition
that fundamental to democratic decision-making is the concept of accountability.
Governments are accountable, through the legislature, to ‘the people’; and elected
representatives are expected to hold governments to account, for both their actions
and their expenditures.
It is the essence of democracy itself that the ultimate authority in matters of
governance lies with ‘the people’ (in Greek, demos). In practice, power is exercised
by a ministerial team, which may be chosen by a directly-elected leader or selected
from the political party or coalition commanding a majority in the elected assembly.
However, the executive – the ministers and their departments (collectively described
as “the government” or “the administration”) – is, or should be, obliged to account to
the populace for what it does (policy accountability) and for how it spends the
taxpayers’ money (financial accountability). Provision of information and explanation
to – and openness to interrogation by – the people’s elected representatives is
normally regarded as sufficient fulfilment of this obligation.
However, in well-run
democracies attention is paid to public information and explanation as well.
The mirror-image of this executive obligation is the legislature’s responsibility for
overseeing what the government does, enforcing policy accountability; and for
overseeing what the government spends, enforcing financial accountability
(exercising “the power of the purse” in a familiar formulation). Effective legislative
oversight is thus a sine qua non of sound democracy also. Ideally, such oversight
should extend across the decision-making continuum. Enforcing policy accountability
should cover both policy-making and policy-execution.
Enforcing financial
accountability should cover not only budgeting or resource allocation but also budget
execution (the traditional audit function) plus, nowadays, resources management
issues (value-for-money auditing).
Transparency
In its domestic manifestation, transparency is the guarantor of accountability.
In
mature democracies it is accepted that there should be “open government” in the
national security area as in any other. Here as elsewhere the electorate, through
their chosen representatives, have “the right to know” about the executive’s business
– subject only to constraints in sensitive areas where it is recognised that,
exceptionally, the authorities may have to invoke “need to know” restrictions. This
proviso does not, however, detract from the status of domestic transparency – again
about both what is done and what is spent – as a democratic imperative.
The international aspect of transparency is founded on the belief that openness in the
security area vis-à-vis neighbouring states (and, indeed, the global community) is
also desirable, because it is a confidence- and security-building practice. There is no
“right to know” here.
Nor are governments formally accountable to other
governments. However, reciprocal transparency between and among governments
is in fact practised. In and around Europe the main medium is the informationexchange arrangements which the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in
Europe (OSCE) has orchestrated for some years, initially based on the Vienna
Document 1994, now on the Vienna Document 1999 (VD99). These arrangements
were instituted and continue to operate, as a Confidence- and Security-Building
Measure (CSBM), because international transparency was and still is perceived as a
political desideratum, essential to good-neighbourly relations.
Ironically, some states – including one or two in South-Eastern Europe – seem to
observe their international obligation(s) more conscientiously than they do their
domestic duty. That is to say, they appear more comfortable sharing information with
other governments – on a confidential basis through the VD99 procedure – than they
are releasing information to their own legislatures. Certainly the ‘standard reporting
instrument’ which is the basis for the annual VD99-based exchanges is more
illuminating about resource-use than some states’ routine presentations to home
audiences. This theme is taken up in Part Three.
The foregoing argument constitutes the analytical foundation of this study. It is restated, with emphasis on basic terminology, in the one-page supplement appended
to this chapter.
The elaborated ‘understanding’ is also the basis of the approach to transparency
profiling adopted in Part Two. For each of our eight countries we consider, first, how
domestic policy accountability and financial accountability are provided for, in theory
and in practice. Transparency is then examined directly, looking at the visibility of
policy-making and planning; of defence programming, budgeting and budget
execution; and of military procurement (the weapons acquisition process). We note
also what regular publications (if any) underpin domestic transparency.
So far as the international dimension is concerned, the national essays record
arrangements for data-exchange on military outlays, budgets and spending intentions
(including compliance with the OSCE’s reporting requirements).
The template used for profiling is presented in Chapter Three.
SUPPLEMENT TO CHAPTER TWO
____________________________________________________
TERMINOLOGY
Several words and expressions are used frequently in what follows, and a concise
summary of them may be useful here.
Accountability
We use this term to cover:
•
the executive obligation to reveal, explain, and justify itself
plus
•
the legislature’s responsibility to require that the government (administration)
does do that.
Both the obligation and the responsibility apply in two broad areas:
•
in relation to everything that the government does (in the defence and
security domain as elsewhere) – and we refer here to policy accountability;
and
•
in relation to what the government spends – and we refer here to financial
accountability.
The obligation and the responsibility in turn rest on the elected representatives’
democratic ‘right to know’ what the government does and spends (which should only
exceptionally be restricted on the basis of ‘need to know’).
Transparency
We use this term to cover how easy – or not – it is to ‘see’ how the business of
government is being conducted; and, by extension, how conscientious the executive
branch is about revealing, explaining and justifying its actions and its expenditures.
‘Transparency’ also is two-dimensional. We are interested in both
•
whether it is possible for a country’s own legislature (plus the media, interest
groups, ‘civil society’ and the public-at-large) to see clearly what government
is doing and what taxpayers’ money is being spent on – this is domestic
transparency; and
•
how easy it is for that country’s neighbouring states (and, indeed, the wider
world) to access information about its defence and security dispositions –
here we speak of international transparency.
Domestic transparency is the sine qua non of accountability; and in a well-functioning
democracy there is ‘open’ government (and great suspicion of official secrecy and
business done ‘behind closed doors’). International transparency may be considered
an important ingredient of good-neighbourly relations between states and, indeed, a
confidence- and security-building measure (of particular value – or potential value –
in regions or sub-regions where there is a lack of mutual trust, for whatever reasons).
CHAPTER THREE
____________________________________________________
COUNTRY TRANSPARENCY PROFILING
Constructing intellectual frames of reference, clarifying concepts and defining terms –
these are the things that theorists do. In the social sciences their work is based on a
formal understanding of how political, economic and societal systems do function
(yielding positive theories) or should function (normative theories).
Such ideas and insights – ‘models’ in the jargon – are indispensable to researchers,
for the obvious reason that they help give direction to empirical inquiry. They indicate
what might repay investigation or the things about which questions should be asked.
However, no set of theoretical propositions – and certainly not the refined formal
understandings in which theoreticians delight – can tell someone how to conduct an
investigation or specify the concrete questions that need to be posed. What positive
or normative theorising asserts has to be translated into a practical research agenda;
or, put another way, a feasible research design has to be derived from the relevant
theory.
For the purposes of the present transparency audit exercise, we opted to deal with
this translation/derivation task pragmatically. Starting from the formal understanding
outlined in the preceding chapter – which is, in effect, an elementary exposition of
relevant democratic theory (itself part of ‘Politics 101’) – we built up a long checklist
of ‘concrete questions’. This was composed, to repeat the formulation of Chapter
One, by simply asking: ‘what are the detailed questions to which we shall need
answers if we are going to describe and evaluate defence transparency in the targetstates comprehensively?’
The result was a sound template for our country transparency profiles, with respect to
both coverage and content. Converted into a substantial ‘clipboard questionnaire’,
the checklist guided the fact-finding and opinion-canvassing, documentary
investigation and interviewing undertaken by the project’s principal researchers; and
it was sent to the knowledgeable ‘country correspondents’ from whom we solicited
both information and opinion.
The remainder of this chapter is devoted to a description of the template. This is of
interest in its own right (we believe). No less important, it represents for readers
what it was for the researchers – intellectual preparation for the country material.
Coverage
Reflecting this investigative method, the country essays in Part Two (Chapters Four
to Six) have a common format. Each comprises a number of separate, but obviously
inter-related, sections covering
•
the transparency culture in the designated country (or the lack of one);
•
how policy accountability is provided for in theory and in practice;
•
how financial accountability is provided for in theory and in practice;
•
what arrangements and procedures ensure domestic transparency of policymaking and planning, in terms of structures and processes and outcomes
(which in this case are the principal ‘doctrine and strategy’ documents,
medium-term plans and so on);
•
what arrangements and procedures ensure domestic transparency of
programming, budgeting and budget execution, in terms of structures and
processes and outcomes (which in this case are programmes, budgets,
budgetary projections and, retrospectively, actual outlays);
•
in this connection, what special provision – if any – is made regarding the
country’s procurement choices, especially the prior consideration of options
for acquisition of major equipment items (or decisions on refurbishment);
•
what regular publications sustain domestic transparency; and
•
regarding outlays, budgets and budgetary projections particularly, what
provision is made for international transparency (including compliance with
the OSCE’s reporting requirements, as set out most recently in the Vienna
Document 1999).
(As has already been said, besides serving our purpose in looking at South-Eastern
Europe, this is a format that – in principle anyway – could be of service elsewhere: in
South America or Africa, perhaps.)
Content
The structured checklist of questions, or template, used for Part Two’s profiles
yielded that format.
What, then, were these ‘concrete questions’; and what,
therefore, do the country essays tell us, under each of the aforementioned headings?
Culture
Of interest here is whether a country is generally disposed to ‘open’ government.
Does a ‘secrecy psychosis’ persist or has the country made definite – perhaps
substantial – progress on ‘the road to transparency’ in the conduct of its defence
affairs? What is the most graphic evidence of a ‘culture shift’ (where fundamental
change is judged to have occurred)? What is the most graphic evidence that very
little has changed in this regard (where that is the overall assessment)?
Policy accountability
Two clusters of issues arise under this and the following heading, related to (a) how it
is supposed to be and (b) how it really is.
•
Is there clear constitutional and/or legislative and/or regulatory authority
requiring the government to reveal, explain and justify policy and plans in the
defence domain?
•
What are the relevant Articles of the Constitution, the main Laws and
regulations (with precise citations and, ideally, the actual text, preferably in
English)?
•
What exactly is the executive required to do, at least nominally?
•
Are there clear obligations to inform and/or consult elected representatives in
the course of the policy-making and planning process or is the administration
required only to report the results of its deliberations?
•
Do major policy texts, five-year plans and suchlike require explicit
parliamentary approval?
•
Does the legislature itself have one or more all-party oversight committees
(commissions) empowered to scrutinise the actions of the executive in the
defence and security arena?
•
Can the committee(s) ‘send for people and papers’ in order to perform the
oversight function; and are individuals invited or summoned?
These are the questions put regarding formal provision (the position ‘in theory’).
Those posed to illuminate what actually happens (the position ‘in practice’) are the
following.
•
Do governments in general – and did ministers recently in power (2002) –
acknowledge and observe their constitutional, legal or other mandatory
obligations vis-à-vis defence and security policy-making and planning?
•
Do they on the whole do all that they are nominally required to do?
•
Do they in particular engage elected representatives as and where the
Constitution or the law obliges them to do so?
•
Where the executive branch does not do what it is supposed to do, how is
such deviant behaviour explained or justified?
•
Does the legislative branch actively use the powers that it has to hold the
administration to account or are a majority of parliamentarians inclined to
passive acquiescence (content to play a ‘rubber-stamp’ role), especially
individuals affiliated to the party-in-office?
•
At what sort of frequency does the oversight committee(s) meet?
•
Does it have resources – including the right to appoint advisers and access
‘outside’ expertise from the national ‘security community’ and elsewhere –
sufficient to enable it to generate informed commentary on, and perform
effective scrutiny of, major ‘doctrine and strategy’ documents, policy
statements and proposals?
(This is not an exhaustive list of questions, but it elicited most of what we wanted to
know.)
Financial Accountability
Looking at executive obligation and the legislature’s responsibility in relation to the
money that the government spends, there are parallel sets of questions.
•
Is there clear authority requiring the government-in-office to reveal, explain
and justify its expenditures for defence purposes (what it has spent and what
it intends to spend)?
•
What are the relevant sources of this authority – constitutional, legal,
regulatory – and can precise references be given?
•
What exactly is the executive required to do, at least nominally?
•
Is there any provision for elected representatives to be informed and/or
consulted in the course of official programming and budgeting or does the
administration simply have to present the results of such activity (next year’s
budget and, maybe, budgetary projections for later years)?
•
Does the defence budget require the explicit formal approval of the elected
chamber, either as a separate submission or within the overall state budget?
•
Does the legislature itself have one or more all-party oversight committee(s) –
whether a ‘defence’ commission or a sub-committee of the ‘budget’
commission – empowered to scrutinise defence expenditure proposals?
•
Can the committee(s) ‘send for people and papers’ to facilitate such scrutiny;
and are ministers, officials and officers obliged to appear to give evidence
(and explain their financial stewardship)?
•
Is there an independent national audit office (‘audit court’ or ‘audit palace’)
which reports to parliament about public expenditure, in the defence area as
in others; and does this body confine itself to the traditional audit function (the
legality and propriety of spending) or does it also do ‘value for money’
inquiries (looking at the economy, efficiency and effectiveness with which the
taxpayers’ money is used)?
Those are the principal questions about how it should be in theory. Concerning
actual practice we thought it appropriate to inquire along the following lines.
•
Do governments generally – and did those in office recently (2002) –
acknowledge and observe their formal obligations regarding defence
programming and budgeting?
•
Do they on the whole do all that they are nominally required to do?
•
Do they in particular engage elected representatives as they are supposed to
do?
•
Where members of the executive branch do not do what they are supposed to
do, how do they get away with it and why is non-compliance tolerated?
•
Does the legislative branch use whatever powers it has to conduct in-depth
scrutiny of spending and spending plans or is it inclined to give ‘rubber-stamp’
approval to whatever government proposes?
•
If time is spent reviewing expenditure proposals, roughly how many hours or
days might a diligent oversight committee devote to this?
•
Would professionally competent assistance be available for this purpose
(from staff or ‘outside’ analysts)?
•
How does the audit body, if there is one, assist oversight: in particular, does it
play a key role in exposing fraud, waste and mismanagement ?
In looking at ‘practice’ we have sought to ascertain also, among other things, whether
the legislature has the power to add or delete line-items in budget proposals (as the
US Congress does) or whether it must simply accept or reject what the executive
requests (as is the case in the UK and many other countries).
Transparency in policy-making and planning
The central issue here is how openly business is done. This covers how much
information about policy options and choices is communicated to the legislature, to
the print and broadcast media, to ‘civil society’ and the public-at-large; and, when
ministers are considering ‘options and choices’, how much attention is paid to the
views of the country’s elected representatives and/or to elite and popular opinion.
Certain basic questions arise.
•
What information in this area is the executive constitutionally or legally
obliged to make available to the legislature (or make public)?
•
Where can the relevant prescriptions be found?
•
Does the administration actually do what it is supposed to do in this respect
(and if not, why not)?
It is difficult to go much further wholly in general terms. So, proceeding on a statespecific basis – and locating inquiries in the current national political context – we
formulated questions like the following:
•
During the latest revision of core policy documents, or the preparation of the
most recent medium-term force structure plan, was information made
available about the nature and content of official discussions and did the
authorities invite ‘outside’ input to their deliberations?
•
In the case of military blueprints – like Bulgaria’s Plan 2004 or the latest
Croatian or Romanian prospectuses – was there parliamentary discussion
and debate, in committee or in plenary, before the documents in question
were finalised; or was the legislature in effect presented with faits accomplis
(for formal endorsement only)?
•
How much detailed material about force structure, force levels, equipment
and deployment is routinely made available – in regular publications or
elsewhere – to permit well-informed policy discourse?
•
Again, this is not an exhaustive list of questions.
Taking the country-specific
approach, though, we have been able to consider numerous detailed matters arising
from recent experience and policy discussions that shed light on transparency in this
context.
Transparency in programming and budgeting
The questions raised under this heading are central to the inquiry.
•
What figures about past outlays, current expenditure, and budgeted
expenditure is the government constitutionally or legally obliged to make
available to the legislature (or to make public)?
•
What are the relevant prescriptions and documentary sources of authority?
•
Does the executive comply?
As in the policy area, in our profiles we typically proceed from this point on a statespecific basis, with allusions to the contemporary scene.
•
When the defence ministry was engaged in preparation of its budget request
for 2002 or 2003, was there parliamentary, media, or popular debate about
alternatives and possible ‘adjustments’ to existing resource allocations?
•
Once the submission was finalised, was their further discussion about the
overall scale of (intended) spending and about the envisaged pattern of
spending – that is to say, about defence’s place in national priorities and
about defence priorities per se?
•
When presented to elected representatives for approval, was the budget
forwarded in abbreviated form (permitting only superficial scrutiny) or was
ample information provided, indicating (for example) the detailed allocation of
resources to both input categories (pay, supplies, equipment) and output
categories (naval forces, ground forces, air forces, central services and so
on)? Put succinctly, did the legislature see a 2-page, 20-page or 200-page
budget?
These questions relate to the budget as such (the actual figures). Students of ‘good
governance’ would say that in a well-functioning democracy there should also be
transparency about budgeting – in other words, it should be clear how the figures are
reached. We queried, therefore, whether the process is indeed one that produces
‘decisions openly arrived at’.
In the financial area there are other quite specific supplementary questions of
interest, from the transparency standpoint. To give two examples:
•
Is sound information made available about the likely socio-economic costs
and about the likely industrial consequences of current and planned military
spending, especially where reduction, rationalisation and restructuring is
proceeding – and giving rise to large-scale manpower redundancies and loss
of business for defence enterprises?
•
Does the defence budget – or, strictly, the defence ministry’s budget – record
all expenditure for military purposes or do some types of defence-related
expenditure fall on other departments’ budgets and, most important, do the
fighting Services benefit from any ‘off-budget’ funding such as may come from
special provision – for one-off equipment or infrastructure modernisation, for
instance – or, possibly, income from commercial activities conducted by the
military?
Obviously there is interest also in whether there are areas of activity for which
funding is deliberately secret (non-transparent) – ‘black’ programmes, as the
Americans call them; and in the extent of foreign military assistance (on whatever
basis).
Equipment acquisition
There is a solid case for paying extra attention to ‘arrangements and practices’ to
provide for openness about expenditure on the procurement of military equipment,
especially so far as the countries covered by the present investigation are concerned.
In some South-East European states there has been very little investment spending
of late. Governments have been preoccupied with national ‘reduction, rationalisation
and restructuring’ efforts: managing manpower rundowns, stripping out obsolescent
equipment and disposing of redundant infrastructure. Force modernisation is only
now approaching the top of the decision-making agenda. As it does, however, it is
apparent that governments face tough choices.
On top of that, large sums are
involved, competition for business is intense, and would-be contractors are offering
all manner of inducements to win orders. Yet the countries in question are states
long accustomed to acquiring weapons and matériel – and constructing facilities –
using the opaque procedures typical of centrally-planned economies. They are also
countries where power was long concentrated in secretive defence bureaucracies
dominated by the uniformed military.
None, therefore, has in place proven
mechanisms for well-informed analysis of procurement options and wise selection of
‘best buys’, for the introduction of sound contracting arrangements and the provision
of up-to-date and effective contracts management procedures. Most important for
our purposes, there is no tradition of transparency in this area of defence economics.
In some countries of the region – notably the larger Yugoslav successor states –
matters are even worse (from the democratic governance perspective). Until very
recently these countries were unable to acquire arms on the open market, because
of sanctions, embargoes and quarantines of one kind or another. However, they
wanted – in their leaders’ eyes ‘needed’ – modern weapons, small arms, ammunition
and other matériel: to prosecute their inter-state, inter-entity and factional wars and to
conduct ‘internal security’ plus other combat operations (or to prepare for the
possible resumption of dormant conflicts). So most, if not all, set up machinery for
clandestine, sanctions-busting and embargo-defying ‘procurement’ and adopted
creative accounting practices to complement such arrangements. Moreover, some of
this ‘machinery’ – and some of the associated bookkeeping ‘practices’ – remain in
place, because there could be renewed fighting almost anytime, prompting new bans
on arms transactions and compelling resort to hidden deals again. In these places
there is some inherent resistance to transparency. The corollary holds: claims that
reform of acquisition practices is underway have to be treated with scepticism.
Still, one can formulate questions to illuminate this area of activity. The following
were posed:
•
What information is the government obliged to provide to the legislature
and/or the general public – about imminent procurement choices, options
under consideration, tendering arrangements (including the identity of wouldbe suppliers), criteria for contractor selection, details of the winning bid (and
why it was chosen), the value of the eventual contract and its terms (including
provision for progress-payments and any so-called ‘offset’ obligations
associated with it), any ground-rules laid down regarding re-negotiation if
circumstances change or in the event of the contractor’s failure either to fulfil
key performance, maintenance and reliability specifications, or to meet
agreed delivery or in-service dates?
•
What follow-on information must be provided relating to contract performance
over the project’s life – including contingencies like cost escalation, in-service
date slippage and so on? (The obvious simple question is: does the country
produce something equivalent to the UK’s annual Major Projects Statement,
or anything remotely like that?)
•
What are the sources of authority for any such prescriptions?
•
Does the administration comply (and if not, why not)?
•
Does the legislature have to approve major procurement decisions at
designated ‘milestones’ over the course of a project and does further
information come to light at such points?
•
Does the legislature scrutinise the weapons acquisition process overall plus
other investment activities (e.g. major construction projects) and does the
elected chamber, or one of its committees, publish the resultant findings?
•
Is it part of the remit of the audit body to examine procurement decisions and
monitor projects; and does the agency report on the defence ministry’s overall
performance or on particular projects (or both)?
•
Do either the elected chamber or the audit body receive – or can they
perhaps demand – facts and figures about any ‘off budget’ procurement?
•
Do they also get to know about equipment or supplies provided to the state
under military assistance arrangements by allies (or other sympathisers),
including hand-me-down items provided at low or no cost?
Related to this last item, we also sought information about any arms or matériel
provided by the state to a contiguous or near neighbour – other than in the normal
run of business, of course – and about how such transfers are accounted for.
Domestic transparency in general: regular publications
Transparency is the guarantor of accountability; and publications are its lifeblood. It
made sense, therefore, to look at what material a government issues regularly – and,
for each item, what the frequency of publication is – whether or not a particular text is
produced to fulfil a statutory obligation, whether or not the target audience is
parliament or the public, and whether the content is ‘political’ or ‘financial’ or a
combination of the two. A simple checklist was used. We asked ‘does Country N
publish any or all of the following:
•
a medium- or long-term defence prospectus – like France’s programme laws
(five-yearly);
•
an (annual?) Defence White Paper, or similarly named document, reviewing
policy, programmes, current military operations and peacetime dispositions,
organisational matters, personnel and procurement issues, and the military
finances (including the budget and spending projections);
•
an (annual?) statement and exposition of the defence budget as such;
•
an (annual? biennial?) departmental statement of policy and/or programme
management objectives (issued by the defence ministry);
•
an (annual? biennial?) ‘performance report’ from the defence ministry, as a
counterpart to the last item;
•
a regular compendium of defence statistics, incorporating key manpower data
(recruitment, retention, retirement), matériel and equipment data (purchases,
inventories, disposals), plus information on other matters (from aircraft
accident-rates to welfare provision);
•
public information reports on subjects of special interest – progress towards
NATO accession, for example?’
For many, if not most, of ‘our’ eight states there are ‘nil returns’ for many items on
this checklist. It is none the less useful to go through it.
International transparency
To conclude this overview of ‘content’, what of the external dimension of
transparency and transparency-building?
Reference has been made earlier to the information-exchange arrangements
managed by the OSCE, currently based on the Vienna Document 1999 (VD99). That
document has many provisions about notification – and observation – of troop
movements and military exercises, ‘Open Skies’ agreements, routine and ‘challenge’
inspections, and so on. However, it also places a politically-binding obligation on
member-states to exchange data on military spending.
Most South-East European countries honour this: but some do not, while others do
not always do precisely what the VD99 prescribes (providing incomplete or
unhelpfully aggregated data, for instance). In Part Two’s profiles we have asked:
•
whether Country N has complied fully with the OSCE’s reporting requirements
in recent years – and if not, why not; and
•
whether the state reports its outlays and budgets elsewhere, e.g. to the UN or
for inclusion in the (intended-to-be) annual Yearbook on South-East
European Defence Spending – a product of the regional Budget
Transparency Initiative (also mentioned earlier) – the first edition of which was
produced for the Stability Pact in 2002 (by a small team in Sofia).
We have also tried to find out which individual states (if any) believe that they could,
or should, go beyond the VD99 requirements to provide more information than they
do now, with regional confidence- and security-building in mind.
Conclusion
The keys to successful empirical inquiry are, first, knowing what it is you want to find
out about; and, secondly, formulating the ‘right’ questions – and enough questions,
and sufficiently searching ones – to fulfil the research purpose.
The questions
enumerated here were, and are, to the point (in our opinion).
However, whether in fact you find out all you want to find out – whether the research
purpose is fulfilled, or at least largely fulfilled – depends on the answers you get.
Enough answers, complete answers, consistent answers and, where personal
testimony is involved, accurate and honest answers about matters of fact plus
thoughtful and objective answers on matters of opinion – these are what the
investigator hopes for, but also what in all but the most trivial inquiries it is unrealistic
to expect.
Recognising this last point, for our South-East European defence transparency audit
we framed realistic expectations. In the event the results were, if anything, better
than expected. To be sure, for some countries several questions went unanswered
and inconsistencies were encountered. Even in expert evidence inaccuracies were
detected and, occasionally, a whiff of political or professional bias. On the whole,
however, sufficient material was forthcoming – and sufficiently reliable material – to
allow the composition of country profiles that, in the commercial auditor’s standard
language, offer a ‘true and fair’ account of policy and practice in the target-states.
At least that is our view. The profiles themselves follow. As has been pointed out
more than once already, each is a ‘stand alone’ essay. However, they can be read –
and are perhaps best read – one after the other. Among other things sequential
reading makes the categorisation of states, in Part Three, more intelligible. Our
judgements there – expressed as ‘transparency and accountability ratings’
(TRANSACCT ratings, for short) – reflect how the eight countries examined measure
up to the common tests for evaluation of good practice that are implicit in the study’s
template.
CHAPTER FOUR
____________________________________________________
ALBANIA
Like all the other South-East European states party to the Stability Pact for the
region, Albania is committed to the promotion of transparency and accountability in
the conduct of its defence affairs. Successive administrations have declared this.
Progress towards more open government has been slow and fitful, however, in this
field and in general. Fundamentally this is because the country’s transition from oneparty rule to participative plural politics has been slow and fitful, and remains
incomplete.
The fact is that, in important respects, Albania is still run like a one-party state. It is
true that, since the early 1990s, two groups of political forces have competed to be
the single ruling party. When in office, though, each has demonised the opposition,
thrown out its predecessors’ appointees at all levels (and, often, reversed their
‘reforms’); and then used means fair and foul to retain power.
For its part, the
defeated faction has typically seen its role as frustrating – if not actually sabotaging –
the incumbent government’s programmes, to an accompanying chorus of protest
about everything from the latest election ‘irregularities’ to nepotism and corruption
generally.
The party bosses and the power-brokers might not have dominated affairs to the
extent that they have if the country’s elected Assembly (Kuvendi, in Albanian) had
explored and exercised more fully the central role that it has, at least theoretically, in
the democratic process.
It has not done so.
The party luminaries, the party
machines, the ministries and appointed officials therefore have disproportionate
decision-making powers.
The word ‘Party-ocracy’ has been used, with some
justification.
This is the environment in which decision-making for defence has been conducted
over the years.
The conditions described are not conducive to democratic
accountability. They are not, however, wholly incompatible with a certain amount of
progress towards greater transparency in the conduct of military affairs.
1. Culture
A definite ‘disconnection from the secrecy psychosis’ has taken place in recent years,
a correspondent in Tirana writes. It is none the less true that Albania still has a long
way to go en route to ‘making transparency part of the culture and behaviour’ in
national politics, the same writer says. The following pages confirm that assessment.
So far as accountability is concerned, in this country some important values are
definitely not yet ‘part of the culture’. Using the language of Chapter Two above,
there is no clear acknowledgement of governments’ executive obligation to reveal,
explain and justify (a) their actions – what they do, and (b) the resources they
allocate to the fulfilment of public purposes – what they spend. Nor is there a clear
understanding that a mirror-image legislative responsibility lies on the people’s
elected representatives, namely to hold governments to account for what they do and
spend. There is a resultant scarcity of information about policy-making (elucidating
objectives), planning (intended action), programming (the envisaged scheduling of
action and resource-use) and budgeting (the allocation of resources to purposes, and
to the purchase of the real resources necessary for the accomplishment of those
purposes).
2. Policy accountability
In relation to Albania’s policy and plans in the security and defence field the first point
to register is that there is no clear call in the country’s Constitution, laws or
government normative acts for the administration to ‘reveal, explain and justify’ what
it is doing or intends.
An important Defence Policy Document – approved by Law no.8571, dated 27
January 2000 – says that ‘transparency in the defence planning process and the civil
democratic supervision of the Armed Forces’ are among the main principles
underlying policy (Article 18). The text does not, however, say what this should
involve in practice.
Article 80 of the Constitution lays down the general obligation of the executive for
answering parliamentary questions and interpellations related to official policies and
the implementation of legislation. It says that:
The Prime Minister and any other member of the Council of Ministers are
obligated to answer interpellations and questions of the deputies within three
weeks.
A member of the Council of Ministers has the right to take part in meetings of the
Assembly or of its committees; he is given the floor whenever he requests it.
The heads of state institutions, on request of the parliamentary committees, give
explanations and inform on specific issues of their activity to the extent that law
permits.
This is clear, but imprecise. It does not, for instance, explicitly oblige the authorities
to inform and consult elected representatives in the course of the security and
defence policy-making and planning process (or any other).
It encourages
lawmakers to content themselves with ex post policy accountability.
Like other legislatures, the Kuvendi has created specialist standing committees to
oversee particular areas of government activity. For the purpose of this study, two
are relevant: the Committee on Defence and that concerned with Public Order and
Security. The composition of these committees is as follows (mid-2002):
Committee on Defence
Committee on Public Order and
Security Service
1. Dashamir Shehi
2. Sabit Brokaj
PDr
Chairman
PS Deputy Chairman
1. Neritan Ceka QLD
2. Spartak Poçi PS
Chairman
Deputy Chairman
3. Astrit Bushati
PD
Secretary
3. Shaban Memia LD
Secretary
4. Ismail Lleshi
PS
Member
4. Gazmir Bizhga PS
Member
5. Refet Dervina
Të gjelbrit "
6. Engjëll Bejtja
PSD
7. Pëllumb Berisha
8. Uran Metko
9. Saimir Curri
5. Maksut Balla PS
"
"
6. Ben Blushi PS
"
PD
"
7. Fatmir Xhindi Të gjelbrit
"
PBK
"
8. Jak Ndokaj PDr
"
9. Ndriçim Babasi PD
"
10. Aleksandër Garuli PR
"
11. Alfred Çako PBK
"
Dr
"
Advisor: Ali Dervishi
Advisor: Ali Dervishi
Secretary: Eranda Fejzollari
Secretary: Jonida Tafani
According to the Albanian Constitution, and in the Rules of Procedure of the Albanian
Parliament, the Committees exercise oversight duties through such instruments as:
questions and interpellations, requesting information, and sending for “people and
papers”. Ministers and top officials and officers may be, and are, ‘invited’ to attend a
meeting of a committee. They are obliged to appear.
In practice, though, neither commission – and certainly not the Committee on
Defence – has a record of actively ‘putting to the question’ government policies and
programmes. Nor has either shown great enthusiasm over the years for diligently
‘shedding light on power, lest power corrupts’ (to cite one celebrated encapsulation of
the oversight function).
Following the appearance of the 2000 Defence Policy Document – enunciating ‘civil
democratic supervision of the Armed Forces’ as a principle to be respected (see
above) – some change is discernible. The treatment of the Defence Strategy text
approved in July 2002 ‘established a good practice which is not clearly laid down in
the law’, a correspondent tells us.
That said, the same source thinks that ‘the executive has not created yet a [pattern
of] institutional behaviour concerning the engagement of the parliamentarians in the
process of policy-making and planning’. There is a presumption, which may well be
correct, that rank-and-file legislators lack the capacity to develop policy alternatives
on their own account, or even to contribute usefully to official examination of options.
So ‘democratic centralism’ rules – the Party knows best (whichever party that is).
In any event, Albanian parliamentarians are clearly content as a general rule with a
“rubber-stamp” role, especially those of – or affiliated to – the party in office.
Opposition deputies may be more disposed to ‘shed light on power’ or ‘put to the
question’ what the administration proposes; but not necessarily – not even usually –
in a constructive way. Observers say that oversight committee meetings – in the
security and defence area, and generally – are for the most part just another arena
for Albania’s special brand of confrontational politics.
For such rituals the parliamentary committees meet weekly, more often if there are
draft laws to scrutinise. However they do not, sources say, work in a systematic,
disciplined way, with a sense of what they want to accomplish. The tempo of work,
and its relevance, depend very much on the competence and temperament of the
Chair and members.
It is therefore a moot point whether the commissions would be able to play a more
constructive role – or maybe the important thing is willing – if they could tap the
analytical resources of Albania’s wider ‘security community’ in think tanks, public
policy institutes and the academic world. The fact is they make very little use of such
‘outside’ expertise.
Instead the committees in our area of interest rely, as the
membership tabulation shows, on a single advisor; and clearly no one individual –
actually a half-person – can do all the information-gathering and in-depth analysis
required for serious scrutiny of military policy and programmes.
Still, the OSCE Presence in Albania, the Embassy of The Netherlands in Tirana (and
other missions), plus at least one local organisation are working to improve the
Kuvendi’s ability to scrutinise defence. The United Nations Development Programme
(UNDP) too is active in supporting democratic reform generally.
The OSCE’s effort is part of an ambitious plan aimed at ‘enhancing the capacity of
deputies and the parliamentary staff so that the Parliament can fully carry out its roles
and responsibilities as the representational body for Albanian citizens’.
This is
focused on three areas (1) a long-term training programme for MPs and their staff,
including the creation of a permanent training capacity within Parliament; (2) the
creation of a research and advisory unit to support the work of MPs and the
parliamentary commissions; (3) support for outreach activities to promote greater
awareness amongst the public of the role of parliamentarians and greater
responsibility to the electorate on the part of MPs.
3. Financial Accountability
Regarding expenditures for defence purposes likewise there is no clear provision in
Albania’s Constitution, laws or government normative acts explicitly obliging the
administration to reveal, explain and justify.
Scrutiny of the State Budget is therefore the main medium – for all practical purposes
the only medium – by which an Albanian government can be held to account for its
proposed use(s) of public money for military purposes (ex ante accountability).
Scrutiny of the government’s accounts – plus whatever the state’s audit bureau has
to say about them – is the means by which the executive can be called to answer for
its actual or realised defence expenditures (ex post accountability).
What the Constitution says about all this is set out in its Article 158.
Article 158:
The Prime Minister, on behalf of the Council of Ministers, presents to the
Assembly the draft law on the budget during the autumn session, which
cannot close without approving it.
If the draft law is not approved until the beginning of the next financial year,
the Council of Ministers implements every month one-twelfth of the budget of
the previous year, until the new budget is approved.
The Assembly approves the new budget within three months from the last day
of the previous financial year, except when extraordinary measures have
been decided.
The Council of Ministers is obligated to present to the Assembly a report
about the implementation of the budget and about the state debt from the
previous year.
The Assembly takes a final decision after having also listened to the High
State Control report.
The defence budget is not voted on separately, though it is a distinct element within
the overall state budget that is approved as a whole in a plenary session of the
elected chamber.
However the formal approval of the government’s proposals is preceded by scrutiny
in committee.
Each of the specialist standing committees sees the entire draft
budget, but naturally each pays particular attention to intended spending in its own
area of interest. Changes may be sought. All proposed alterations are considered
by an Economy and Budget Committee which forwards the draft to the ‘whole house’
for final approval, including amendments reached by consensus.
Elected representatives are not consulted, or otherwise engaged, in the course of
official programming and budgeting for defence, except perhaps informally (and
deniably, because there is no legal or constitutional provision that confers an
entitlement on them). Some commentators would count this a weakness in Albanian
policy and practice. There are countries – Romania and Slovakia spring to mind –
where executive-legislature relations are organised in a way that provides effective
channels for influence. These, though, are still the exceptions to the general rule –
that ex ante accountability is an all-at-once, once-a-year affair.
Ex post accountability can also be concentrated on once-for-all certification of an
entire year’s spending. Even where that is the custom, however, parliamentarians do
not have to come to near-instant views as they do in the typically compressed
timescales associated with budget scrutiny.
Cases of delinquent or criminal
bureaucratic behaviour can be investigated in slower time, if not exactly at leisure.
They usually are.
There is also, usually, material from an audit bureau to consider, though investigative
journalism and in-house ‘whistle-blowing’ are other ways in which illegality and
impropriety can be brought to light. (Inefficiency is harder to expose, and difficult to
punish.)
In Albania the audit bureau is, at least potentially, the key instrument for ex post
accountability and for that sustained assault on more or less endemic corruption that
most observers think should be one of the country’s top policy priorities. The office –
called the High State Audit or, in some renderings, High State Control – has the
usual remit, set out in Articles 162-164 of the Albanian Constitution.
Article 162:
The High State Control is the highest institution of economic and financial
control. It is subject only to the Constitution and laws.
The Head of the High State Control is appointed and dismissed by the
Assembly upon proposal of the President of the Republic. He stays in office
for 7 years, with the right of re-election.
Article 163:
The High State Control supervises:
the economic activity of state institutions and other state juridical persons;
the use and preservation of state funds by the organs of central and local
government;
the economic activity of juridical persons, in which the state owns more than
half of the quotas or shares, or when their debts, credits and obligations are
guaranteed by the state.
Article 164:
The High State Control presents to the Assembly:
a report on the implementation of the state budget;
its opinion on the Council of Ministers' report about the expenses of the
previous financial year before it is approved by the Assembly;
information about the results of controls any time it is asked by the Assembly.
The High State Control presents to the Assembly a yearly report on its
activities.
In accordance with the above, the office performs the traditional audit function –
‘certifying’ accounts after satisfying itself that money has been spent as the Assembly
intended, legally and without impropriety. It does not do what in mature democracies
are called value-for-money studies – inquiries that consider whether taxpayers’ (and
aid donors’ or lenders’) money has been spent with due attention to economy,
efficiency and effectiveness.
Two remarks are in order here. First, in Albanian conditions there probably should
be inquiries about ‘economy, efficiency and effectiveness’: not so much in pursuit of
value-for-money but as part of the effort to root out corruption. The most insidious
‘corruption’ is that which stays (just) the right side of the law but none the less
constitutes, or facilitates, fraud or theft. Examples in the defence field might include
well-remunerated ‘shadow’ or supernumerary appointments; contracts for the
purchase of food or fuel for the armed forces entered into at prices well above market
values; or vehicles bought for a military purpose – with authorised funds and proper
documentation, and at fair prices – but quietly appropriated, permanently or
occasionally, for either private or commercial use (or even sale).
The second observation is that there must be action – reprimands, demotions or
dismissals, demands for restitution, arrest and criminal proceedings (whatever) –
where auditors discover actual illegality. Moreover, miscreants ‘brought to justice’
must be prosecuted, and where guilt is established handed sentences that amount to
more than token punishment, and required to serve their sentence (custodial or
otherwise). In states where there is no tradition of ‘honest government’ this may be a
counsel of perfection. The fact is, however, an audit bureau whose observations are
merely ‘noted’ is an office that may eventually become worse than useless. (‘Worse’
because it creates a benign environment for theft, fraud, waste and mismanagement
not the unrewarding conditions that it is its raison d’être to establish and sustain.)
These are not trivial points, in relation to Albania or any other South-East European
country for that matter.
The above ‘examples from the defence field’ are not
creatures of our imagination; and no-one who has looked at ‘rule of law’ issues in the
region will miss the point of the preceding paragraph.
The OSCE’s plan for ‘enhancing the capacity’ of the Kuvendi attaches particular
importance to improving ex ante financial scrutiny.
Its prospectus sets out the
rationale very clearly.
The state budget is a critically important document in insuring transparency
and accountability of the government. By providing a detailed description of
proposed state expenditures, it should allow parliament and the general
public to trace the allocation of funds, what the priorities of the government
are and how state resources are being used for the benefit of the country.
Therefore, a well-informed analysis of the budget is necessary before giving
parliamentary approval.
This is a vision, though: there is no ‘well-informed analysis’ at present.
4. Transparency in policy-making and planning
There can be no accountability without transparency; and, in order to ‘see’ what
government is doing, elected representatives – plus interest-groups, other ‘civil
society’ organisations and the public-at-large – need information. Regarding defence
policy-making and planning that means clear statements of policy objectives,
substantive material on the strategies envisaged to accomplish those goals and
about the instruments (arms and armed forces) needed for this purpose.
Historically, Albanians have not been well served in this respect.
For years
objectives and instruments were the product of Enver Hoxha’s notoriously
idiosyncratic notions – the Albanian landscape is blighted by their concrete legacy –
and, since no-one had the temerity to challenge the presumption that ‘the Party
Leader knows best’, what elucidation of policy and provision was available was what
the man himself wrote. In the last decade or so Albania’s politics has remained, as
noted earlier, a form of ‘democratic centralism’ – where the presumption is the more
familiar ‘the Party knows best’ – so policy pronouncements have often been little
more than official propaganda.
This has changed, largely because Albania’s aspirations have changed and its
leaders – of whatever stripe – have had to take account of the expectations and
requirements of ‘the Euro-Atlantic organisations’ that they want to join. Since the
mid-1990s Tirana has had to submit Individual Partnership Programmes (IPPs) in
connection with its participation in NATO’s Partnership for Peace scheme (PfP).
Since 1999 it has had to formulate Annual National Programmes (ANPs) under that
Organisation’s Membership Action Plan (MAP) procedure for entry candidates.
The preparation of counterpart material for home consumption has been a natural
extension of such work.
At least that seems a plausible explanation for the
appearance in mid-2000 of a National Security Policy Document and the landmark
Defence Policy Document mentioned earlier. The mid-2002 publication of a Defence
Strategy of the Republic of Albania completed the set of up-to-date core policy texts.
Three comments, though.
First, three volumes in two years is a triumph for
transparency by Albanian standards.
It is not so remarkable, however, if the
benchmark is practice in more mature democracies (or even some other South-East
European countries, notably Bulgaria and Romania). Secondly, the fact that the
documents were prepared almost entirely within the executive branch is a
disappointment to those who attach importance – as we do – to transparency of
process as well as outcome. Thirdly, the hallmark of ‘good practice’ in democratic
decision-making for defence is regular publications, not occasional flagship texts.
(See also s.7 below.)
5. Transparency in programming and budgeting
The one bundle of information that the Kuvendi does get regularly is the defence
budget, albeit embedded in the State Budget.
The authority here is Albania’s Law no.8379, dated 29 July 1998, On the Drafting and
Implementation of the State Budget of the Republic of Albania. This statute says that
the draft state budget must contain, for each ‘budgetary institution’, figures
for revenue and expenditure;
for the past year and the forthcoming year;
divided in different items.
It does. The document is published in the country’s Official Gazette.
The text approved in 2001, for the 2002 budget-year, ran to 197 pages. The defence
budget typically accounts for 10-15 per cent of the submission, as it did on this
occasion. Thus by this crude measure Albania’s elected representatives, and the
public, get a fuller insight into military spending than their counterparts in Belgrade
(who see an abbreviated 2-3 page budget), but a lot less than their fellow MPs in,
say, Bucharest (who receive c. 150 pages of numbers, explanations and
justifications). (And the ‘new model’ budget presentation that Bulgaria inaugurated
for 2003(-2005) takes the prize: a 400-page defence budget document – which looks
like overkill and may, indeed, be ‘the executive’s revenge’.)
If Tirana’s parliamentarians were interested in painstaking analysis of military
priorities and probing examinations of defence costs they would probably regard the
material they get as inadequate. In fact, however, in the parliamentary stages the
‘debate’ in the specialist oversight committee(s) has reportedly been mostly closed
exchanges between political groups and the responsible ministers.
On the other hand, the influential Economy and Budget Committee has begun to
invite independent ‘outside’ actors to submit their opinions on the various budget
elements and items. ‘This is still not’, a correspondent writes, ‘an institutionalised
and real consultation and involvement process’.
It has, however, ‘given the
necessary “space” for the opposition to present its remarks and alternatives.’ The
Committee on Defence should, perhaps, be urged to follow this example.
The authorities would have to reconsider their ‘information-lite’ approach to
transparency before anything much could come of that, however. Despite a few
changes in policy and practice in the conduct of defence and security affairs lately,
Albania is still some way from offering a picture of ‘open decisions, openly arrived
at’.
6. Equipment Acquisition
Ironically, military capital spending on equipment, matériel, and infrastructure is one
area where – in principle anyway – there should be exemplary openness.
In the first place, there is a specific statute – the Law no.7971, dated 6 July 1995, On
Public Procurement – that says the Albanian government must be entirely
transparent about all its investment decision-making.
Everything in the ‘good
practice’ manual applies: details should be available to the public on options under
consideration, contractor selection criteria, tender procedures, winning bids (and why
they won), contract terms and conditions, and so on. Moreover, legislation on the
right of public access to official documents appears to offer an alternative, or backup, assurance of visibility.
(There are laws and regulations about classified
information too, of course; but we understand that their application to (say) making
public the exact performance characteristics of a weapons system would not allow
the authorities to keep secret the fact of an intended acquisition and its commercial
aspects.)
In the second place, we are told that, while there is no public right of access to
information on contractor performance in the execution of a project, a parliamentarian
can ask for such information (by exercising rights already noted in this profile).
In the third place, as a final guarantee that bureaucrats and those with whom they do
business will stay honest, there is always the possibility of an investigation by the
High State Audit or High State Control office. With the powers it has (described
earlier) the bureau can demand from the defence ministry information about any
procurement; and the ministry must produce it.
How to explain, then, the widely-held perception that in Albania’s public sector capital
projects – civilian and military – there is much dubious dealing and those directly
involved take pains to shelter their affairs from outside scrutiny?
The answer, we believe, lies in the fact that the regulatory and supervisory
framework just described looks robust but is actually very weak, and certainly does
not ensure transparency. The law On Procurement says project details should be
‘available to the public’. It does not require anyone to actually make them public. So
nobody does. There is no incentive to do so. In fact the opposite is true: the fewer
people know about a scheme the better, and the greater the chances of a bureaucrat
or a businessman making a little money from it personally (maybe even a lot of
money).
The elected representative’s right to ask for information does not amount to much
either. It requires an individual to be pro-active and assertive, while Tirana’s rankand-file MPs prefer to keep their heads below the parapet.
As for the High State Control, to echo the theme of earlier argument, it is clear that –
for whatever reason – it does not instil ‘the fear of being found out’ into the personnel
of the departments and enterprises that it monitors. (In addition, we know from the
recent tales of corporate governance in the United States that ‘unprofessional
conduct’ can afflict the auditing world like any other.)
7. Domestic transparency in general: publications
We attach the highest importance to regular publications, as a tangible expression of
the seriousness of a government’s or department’s commitment to transparency
about its affairs. In our view ‘good practice’ in the defence and security area can be
gauged by reference to a straightforward checklist.
A country serious about
transparency will issue, though not necessarily as separate texts,
•
a periodic medium- or long-term defence prospectus (like France’s five-yearly
programme-laws, for instance);
•
an annual or biennial statement of policy and provision (which it may, but
need not, call a Defence White Paper);
•
an informative presentation of its yearly budget (figures plus some
explanatory material);
•
an annual or biennial ‘performance report’ (with or without currently
fashionable ‘performance indicators’); and
•
a regular compilation of defence statistics, incorporating key manpower data
(recruitment, retention, retirement), matériel and equipment data (purchases,
inventories, disposals), plus information on other matters (from aircraft
accident-rates to welfare provision).
Popular versions of all of the above would be central elements in a sound public
information policy.
Against this sort of benchmark, Albania’s showing is not very impressive. We have
noted that the country does publish its annual military budget. We have seen that it
produced an important Defence Policy Document in 2000 and completed a Defence
Strategy Document in mid-2002. Both were published in the administration’s Official
Gazette and are ‘on the Web’. However, we have seen no plans to update the texts
from time to time. We are aware also that the Bulletin of the Ministry of Defence
exists and that it reports, selectively, on the ministry’s activities.
Finally, we
understand that MAP-related material – prepared for a NATO ‘readership’ – may be
made available to interested parties in the country itself. These do not, however, add
up to the kind of coherent dissemination of facts and figures that the checklist
represents.
8. International transparency
So far as its contribution to international transparency is concerned, Albania would
win no accolades in Vienna or South-East European capitals but, paradoxically, is
apparently well regarded on this count at NATO headquarters in Brussels.
Although the country has signed-up to the politically-binding commitment associated
with the OSCE’s information-exchange arrangements based on the Vienna
Document 1999 – an important pan-European Confidence- and Security-Building
Measure (CSBM) – it has not complied with the reporting requirements over the
years. ‘Political instability’ is the explanation, a local correspondent says. Although
Albania is nominally a supporter of the regional Budget Transparency Initiative
sponsored by the Stability Pact for South-Eastern Europe, it did not respond to the
invitation to submit data for inclusion in the prototype Yearbook on South-East
European Defence Spending (2002) produced under the Initiative’s auspices and,
therefore, is not ‘represented’ there.
What the Albanians have done, though, is comply with all the (annual) informationpresentation requirements for participation in NATO’s PfP programme and, since
1999, the MAP procedure for would-be members.
Because of this, despite the
dismal record on OSCE-wide, CSBM-related submissions – and in support of the
neighbourhood initiative – the country, one writer says, ‘looks more transparent and
accountable to the foreign and international institutions than to the domestic public’.
In sum, Albania has taken pains to ‘look good for NATO’ – but not for the OSCE or
the citizenry.
Conclusion
In military affairs – and in the security sector generally – Albania has made a little
headway in recent years towards ‘making transparency part of the culture and
behaviour’ of the nation (to use the correspondent’s language quoted earlier).
Accountability is taken a little bit more seriously than it used to be as well, as both an
executive obligation and a legislative responsibility, but practice falls a long way short
of what declaratory policy claims.
The essential explanation is that the country offers a striking example of what one
writer calls ‘the difference between the time required for changing laws and the time
required for changing moeurs, the difference in kind between imposing regulations by
public authority and creating [sic] habits and attitudes’.
Still, Albania is edging in the right direction, driven largely by the desire to fulfil the
expectations and requirements of the Euro-Atlantic organisations it aspires to join
and helped by the concrete efforts of agencies like the OSCE Presence. Moreover, it
is worth noting that some local scholars think that Albania has travelled further along
the road to transparency in the conduct of defence affairs than in many other areas of
governance, and that the uniformed military are more accountable for what they do
and spend than many others in the service of the state (customs officers and the
police, for example).1
1
See Blendi Kajsiv’s contribution to Philipp Fluri and Jan Trapans (eds.), Defence and Security-Sector
Governance and Reform in South-East Europe, Vol. I, (Geneva/ Belgrade, 2003), pp. 105-117.
CHAPTER FIVE
____________________________________________________
BOSNIA AND HERZEGOVINA
The situation in Bosnia and Herzegovina concerning the provision of information
about defence and defence-related matters is a reflection of the territory’s recent
history and current circumstances.
The most relevant ‘recent history’ is the fighting that tore the country apart in the first
half of the 1990s – until (a) the 1994 Washington accord that brought an end to
Muslim-Croat hostilities (and, in theory, established the joint Armed Forces of the
Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina) and (b) the Dayton Peace Agreements
whose terms prescribed that the state of Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH) should
comprise two entities, viz. the Federation and Republika Srpska (each with its own
government, its own legislature and its own armed forces).
The relevant ‘current circumstances’ are the legacy of Dayton, how different actors
have interpreted that settlement and their role in implementing it, plus the impulse to
move ‘beyond Dayton’ that is gaining momentum.
Most important for present
purposes is the fact that, while the post-Dayton Constitution of the country created
common or ‘state-level’ institutions, including a bi-cameral parliament, defence and
military matters were assigned not to the state's competency but to the entities, albeit
with a Standing Committee on Military Matters – the SCMM, attached to the
Presidency – to exercise co-ordination of all Armed Forces in BiH. (This means the
three armies that exist in fact: Republika Srpska’s and the two nominally ‘joint’ but
effectively still largely autonomous Federation forces.) There are non-local actors
with security responsibilities too. These include the Stabilisation Force (SFOR), the
Office of the High Representative (OHR), a United Nations’ Mission (UNMIBIH) and
an active presence of the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe
(OSCE).
All of these players – domestic and external – are engaged in both
implementing Dayton and thinking about the ‘beyond Dayton’ agenda.
1. Culture
Because of the ‘history’ and the ‘circumstances’ – plus the links that endure between
the three armies and outside supporters – a veil of secrecy continues to hang over
defence affairs, especially the forces’ finances. Until 1999 such money matters were
each entity's closely-guarded secret. Not even elected representatives knew where
all the money was coming from or what it was being used for. Pressure from the
OHR and work by the OSCE have brought many facts into the open, about both
sources and uses of funds. However, even today, the regularly available information
is not very detailed, and probably not very reliable.
In fact there is a certain resistance to transparency. One reason is a tradition of
secrecy, something that characterised the governance of pre-1990s Yugoslavia and
the management of its army (the JNA). Residual suspicion is another. A third is
prudence. Until very recently no Yugoslav successor state could acquire arms and
materiél on the open market, because of sanctions, embargoes and quarantines of
one kind or another. Yet weapons, ammunition and suchlike were ’needed’ for interstate, inter-entity and factional fighting, and for
‘internal security’ (as well as to
prepare for the possible resumption of dormant conflicts). So machinery was set up
to permit clandestine, sanctions-busting and embargo-defying, procurement.
Creative accounting practices were devised to go with it. Both remain in place (we
understand), because there is still a possibility of further hostilities, fresh bans on
arms transactions and the need for hidden dealing again. In addition, many elected
representatives have no burning wish to know more about the military’s finances.
Voting for a global sum for the army – as requested by the defence ministry – is one
thing. Approving a budget with detail that shows, for example, clearly inadequate
provision for personnel expenditure – foreshadowing either dismissals or pay arrears
– is something else. The legislator is made party to a policy, and its consequences,
of which he or she may subsequently wish to disclaim knowledge.
2. Policy accountability
2.1 Theory
State level
The BiH Presidency is the highest office in all matters concerning defence. Under the
Constitution, its SCMM is responsible for co-ordinating all armed forces in BiH. It is
also responsible for ensuring that no threat exists, or arises, between the entities and
that no military force of one entity occupies the territory of the other.
The only constitutional provisions concerning security and defence at this level are
found under Article 5, Point 5 of the Constitution of Bosnia and Herzegovina, which
states that:
a) each member of the Presidency shall, by virtue of the office,
have civilian command authority over armed forces. Neither
Entity shall threaten or use [armed forces] against the other
Entity, and under no circumstances shall any armed forces of
either Entity enter into or stay within the territory of the other
Entity without the consent of the government of the latter and of
the Presidency of Bosnia and Herzegovina. All armed forces in
Bosnia and Herzegovina shall operate consistently with the
sovereignty and territorial integrity of Bosnia and Herzegovina.
b) The Members of the Presidency shall select a Standing
Committee on Military Matters to co-ordinate the activities of
armed forces in Bosnia and Herzegovina. The members of the
Presidency shall be members of the Standing Committee.
Obviously, these provisions provide no explicit basis for state-level accountability. At
least for the time being, therefore, it is only at the entity level that legislative oversight
is even nominally practised.
Entity of the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina
The system of accountability in the Entity of the Federation of Bosnia and
Herzegovina is determined by the entity’s Constitution. Under it, the legislature is
empowered to authorise any use of military force by the Federation, which use must
be in accordance with international law. The Federation Constitution also says that
either House may conduct investigations and for this purpose may require testimony
and the production of documents.
Under the FBiH Constitution, the Federal Government is accorded exclusive
responsibility for ‘organising and conducting the defence of the Federation and
protecting its borders, including establishing a joint command of all military forces in
the
Federation,
controlling
military
production,
and
making
joint
military
arrangements’. The Ministry of Defence suggests and implements necessary laws
and is accountable to the FBiH Parliament.
The Federation Army protects and
defends the territory and constitution of FBiH and answers to the Ministry of Defence.
The FBiH Law on Defence contains more detailed provisions. Among these is one
that places responsibility for nominating senior officers on the Bosnian and Croat
members of the BiH Presidency (Article 22). Appointments must also be approved
by SFOR.
Entity of Republika Srpska
Under the other entity’s constitution (as amended) the National Assembly has
virtually identical powers with respect to the defence of the territory of Republika
Srpska (RS). The role of the RS Ministry of Defence is identical to the role of the
FBiH Ministry of Defence and it is similarly accountable to the elected Assembly.
The RS Army is responsible for protecting and defending the territory and
Constitution of the RS and is accountable to its Ministry of Defence. The President is
empowered, in war and peace, to command the RS Army and to nominate, promote
and recall officers of that Army.
The RS Constitution further says that the "Republic" shall regulate and ensure
defence and security and take measures in case of the imminent threat of war or in a
state of emergency. The National Assembly is the body responsible for declaring a
state of war or of an armed attack on the entity.
2.2. Practice
Since there is no defence ministry at the state level there are disagreements over the
interpretation of Article 5, Point 5 of the Constitution of BiH on the all-important
matter of who has ‘civilian command authority over armed forces’. One argument
asserts that each member of the state presidency is responsible and accountable for
‘his’ component of the armed forces within the state and that there is no joint civilian
command authority over the military.
The other argument says that all three
Members of the Presidency have authority over each armed force.
(This is the
Constitutional Court’s position.)
Be that as it may, for the time being at least accountability is an entity-level business.
Such oversight of policy-making and planning as there is at the state-level is
exercised mainly by international bodies – the so-called International Community (IC)
in the country – primarily the OHR.
This is unsatisfactory because, rather than
engaging elected representatives in the decision-making process, ‘outside’ officials
simply report what they have concluded. As one writer puts it, in a general criticism,
….incessant IC chatter about improving “transparency” and “accountability” of
Bosnian leaders and structures leads to uncomfortable questions about what
sort
of
transparency
characterises
the
IC’s
own
decision-making
processes….and what sort of accountability increasingly authoritarian,
decree-prone IC leaders themselves have to the constituency on whose
behalf and in whose interests they are supposedly working – the people of
Bosnia.
In this respect things have changed very little under High Representative Ashdown
(appointed in 2002). The point remains pertinent.
The problem is that there are no agreed policy or force structure plans as such for
the whole of Bosnia and Herzegovina. In May 2001 the Tri-Presidency approved a
BiH Defence Policy text; and the Commander of the Stabilisation Force (COMSFOR)
has had people working on how entity armed forces might be ‘integrated’ in a ‘joint
military’ to realise his ‘vision’ of a viable ‘end-state’ for all forces in the country.
Whether any of this will be realised, though, remains an open question. In preparing
the policy document and exploring options for ‘integration’ the SCMM – along with
COMSFOR’s Joint Military Affairs (JMA) office and the OHR’s Military Cell – operated
as a surrogate state-level MoD. The question is: will the coalition government formed
after the October 2002 ballot in BiH (under Adnan Terzic of the Muslim Party of
Democratic Action) be willing to support the (co-ordinating) state-level defence
secretariat that has been created to carry this work forward?
One thing is certain: High Representative Ashdown is likely to lend support to
movement in this direction. It is clear that Wolfgang Petritsch’s successor means ‘to
build state institutions’ (not least in order to reduce the burden of defence – and
government generally – on the ailing BiH economy).
On present entity-level accountability vis-à-vis military matters, the important point to
register is that such important statements and documents as appear do require
parliamentary approval and defence committees do exercise some legislative
oversight.
Such committees exist in both entities. In the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina,
the House of Representatives’ committee consists of seventeen members and the
House of the People’s has six. In Republika Srpska, the Defence Committee has
seven members. As for professional support, each Committee has one permanent
parliamentary staff member.
In general ministers in office prior do acknowledge and observe their constitutional,
legal and other mandatory obligations where defence and security policy are
concerned.
The legislative branch is becoming a progressively more effective
interlocutor as well. For instance the defence committees now meet monthly. In
their 12-month work schedules they tend to allot time to pertinent topics like reduction
of the duration of military service, the defence budget, and oversight of the
intelligence agencies.
Unfortunately, they have minimal staff support and few
resources to enlist independent experts from the country’s "security community" to
perform in-depth scrutiny of major doctrine and strategy documents, policy
statements and proposals.
3. Financial accountability
3.1. Theory
In each of the entities there are constitutional provisions governing the financing of
the armed forces. These clearly define who can spend money for military purposes.
Regarding the management of defence funds, latterly expenditures have been
carried out under international supervision (following ‘audit’ exercises which revealed
widespread irregularities). Money has not been well spent in recent years, however,
by most observers’ reckoning. The sums budgeted for defence have been, and still
are, insufficient to sustain force structures and force levels of military organisations
that until recent ‘downsizing’ were generally regarded as inappropriately and
unsustainably large.
Independently of COMSFOR’s prospectus for ‘integration’ the OSCE began in 20012002 to give thought to the sort of reduction, rationalisation and restructuring
required.
The slimming-down and thinning-out called for by both resource
constraints and the security circumstances have begun, but the associated
‘adjustment’ problems – redundancy and resettlement, weapons disposal and so on
– are daunting. Moreover mistrust still inhibits reorganisation. (For more on this, see
s. 5 below.)
3.2. Practice
Still, in each entity the defence budget does require the explicit formal approval of the
elected chamber(s), as a distinct element in the executives’ spending plans.
Moreover members of the defence committees can query proposed appropriations
and also ask for explanations and justifications. In this connection they can "send for
people and papers"; and ministers, officials and officers do attend to give evidence
when summoned. What prevents effective supervision is the committees’ lack of the
requisite knowledge for auditing the legality and propriety of spending. (A fortiori they
do not have the capacity to do "value for money" inquiries at all.)
On the whole recent governments in Sarajevo and Banja Luka have acknowledged
their accountability obligations regarding defence programming and budgeting. For
their
part,
elected
representatives
administrations to account.
clearly
understand
their
duty
to
hold
In RS, though, a tendency to "rubber-stamping" has
been observed. This reflects both an unwillingness to challenge government figures,
so as to be able later to claim ignorance of their implications (a point made earlier);
and an inability to contest proposals, because of the very limited assistance available
to members in performing scrutiny (especially help from "outside" analysts). So far
as we are aware none of the legislatures has considered exercising its power to add
or delete line items in official budget submissions.
To date such intrusive auditing of defence spending as has been done in the country
has been the work of expert teams engaged by international organisations. Their
investigations have revealed widespread mismanagement of funds. They have also,
occasionally, been denied access to facts and figures.
Some of the main
observations of a benchmark OSCE inquiry (2000) are worth recording (in
abbreviated language).
Federation
•
Military consumption ‘significantly’ higher than previously estimated, and
‘significantly’ exceeded the budget allocation for the year.
•
No proper accounting for unpaid liabilities.
Republika Srpska
•
Funding in 2000 ‘insufficient to cover requirements’: so a lot of new debt
incurred.
•
Outstanding liabilities to employees and suppliers at the end of 2000 put at
KM70 million.
Both Entities
•
Internal controls weak: no protection against ‘fraud, incompetence and
carelessness’ (i.e. theft).
•
Accounting controls unable to provide ‘accurate and transparent’ records:
resulting financial statements ‘unreliable and materially misstated’ (i.e. works
of fiction).
That is the bad news. The better news is that things may be improving, albeit
slowly.
For instance, a state-level body – the Office for Auditing of the Financial Operations
of the Institutions of BiH – is up and running and its website contains a creditable
contribution to transparency, namely material on a major investigation of the State
Border Service (SBS), the biggest spending body at this level. The SBS report is
noteworthy on two counts: first for sharp observations on how the Service must
improve its financial management; and, secondly, for some revealing trivia. Under
the former heading there is a note on ‘the issue of procurement of fixed assets that
has not been performed according to legal provisions’ (whereby hangs a tale, no
doubt). Under the latter heading it is instructive to learn that UNMIBIH gave the
Sarajevo Canton ‘for a permanent use of SBS’ such items as summer trousers,
winter trousers, short-sleeve shirts, long-sleeve shirts, sweaters, belts, ties (!), and a
ribbon marked POLICE; while the Ministry of the Interior donated, among other
things, ‘kitchen appliances and devices for washing and ironing’.
In the Federation, the Office of Budget Audit of the Federation of Bosnia and
Herzegovina has been in business since 2000; and this Office also is contributing to
transparency by running a website. At the time of writing the site carries (i) a note
that the Public Report on the 2001 Budget Audit was presented in July 2002; and (ii)
a summary of the previous year’s submission (dated August 2001). The second of
these contains telling remarks on the Ministry of Defence’s book-keeping. These
indicate that there is much work to do in putting the Federation’s military finances in
order. Thus, for the Bosnian component, the text refers to ‘questionable advance
payments for business trips’ and ‘questionable payments on the basis of receipts’.
For the Croat component there is just the bleak statement that ‘the documentation on
inventory of financial assets and securities was not available’.
As for Republika Srpska, here too there is a Supreme Audit Institution which has a
web-page on which reports are published. This bureau has been generally more
effective than its Federation counterpart, sources say, to the extent that the
government in Banja Luka has at times ‘felt threatened’ by it and sought to
marginalise its influence.
In the interest of all-round improvement in scrutiny, training is being provided, to both
state and entity audit staff, by the Swedish Audit Office. Clearly, however, until a
culture of ‘honest government’ has begun to develop in BiH – until it becomes
unacceptable to ignore ‘legal provisions’, make ‘questionable payments’, refuse
access to ‘documentation’ or ‘marginalise’ auditors – there are limits to what even the
most expert investigators can accomplish.
4. Transparency in policy-making and planning
Transparency in planning defence and fielding forces in BiH is governed by the
entities' constitutions, with the main obligations and responsibilities stipulated in each
entity’s respective Law on Defence. (For instance in the FBiH Law on Defence,
Section III, Articles 20, 25 and 27 clearly specify the obligations of the Executive.)
Important decisions on reducing and restructuring the armed forces throughout
Bosnia and Herzegovina have been taken in recent months, wholly in the public
spotlight. The ‘downsizing’ process involved the elected chambers fully: each entity’s
respective Minister of Defence had to explain and justify courses of action proposed
– on more than one occasion – until a prescription was finally accepted. As events
unfolded a few non-governmental organisations, experts and analysts were active
and played a part in the wider debate.
In terms of military structures, facilities and developments there is sufficient
information available in the country to permit meaningful discussions. This condition
probably obtains because of the presence of international armed forces. There is no
secrecy about the size, shape, equipment and deployment of these contingents, and
they in turn demand openness about indigenous forces. Moreover both SFOR and
the OSCE are engaged in dialogue about restructuring with the entities’ defence
ministries plus the RS General Staff and the FBiH’s Joint Command.
Elected
representatives are not involved, however – sometimes not even informed about
discussions, we understand – perhaps because the defence committees are, in the
judgement of a local contact, ‘underdeveloped’ (in the sense that there is no great
intellectual depth to such policy discourse as does take place in the country).
5. Transparency in programming and budgeting
There are numerous ‘grey areas’ when it comes to defence finance, as noted in the
earlier discussion of audit activity in the country. This is a legacy of past practice, and
the ‘connections’ between BiH forces and neighbours’ defence organisations.
In the period from the war until 2001/2002, for example, both the Army of RS and the
Croat component of the Federation Armed Forces received financial support from the
Federal Republic of Yugoslavia and the Republic of Croatia respectively.
Only
insiders knew exactly how much was received and what the funds were spent on
(and that is still the case).
We do know that personnel expenses were ‘subsidised’. In the Federation there
were disparities between the remuneration of army officers of the same rank and
professional level depending on whether an individual belonged to the Croat or
Bosnian component. In RS former personnel of the (old) Yugoslav Army continued
until 2002 to receive their pay from Belgrade (and maybe some still do). (Over the
years the Bosnian component of the Federation forces has also received – perhaps
still receives – military assistance from Islamic countries.)
The lack of transparency about these – and probably other – expenditures means
that waste, fraud and mismanagement are almost certainly widespread in the
country’s military organisations, as the quoted audit reports suggest.
Practices
reported by others include the continuing presence on military payrolls of personnel
no longer on active service, an abuse that the government in the Federation has tried
to address by compiling a definitive list of officers serving with FBiH Armed Forces
(both components). More generally, in BiH as elsewhere in South-Eastern Europe,
there is a widespread – and seemingly endemic – disdain for propriety in the
handling of any public money.
Still, three developments have enhanced transparency about military spending lately,
even
if
enhancement
has
sometimes
meant
little
more
than
exposing
maladministration or corruption, and maybe containing it.
The first is the audit work already mentioned. The second is the recent introduction
of a Treasury system, bringing more discipline to the administration of public funds.
The third is the work done lately to shrink the entity armed forces and structure them
more appropriately.
For years resource allocations, in both entities, have not been enough to provide
even for the bare survival of their forces–in-being.
Each has had to resort to
borrowing and other expedients to pay its way. The position in 2001 is shown in the
table below.
BiH Defence Spending 2001
Estimated values (KM million, round figures)
Federation
RS
[Funds Requested
729.8
]
Funds Allocated
300.0
70.0
Amount spent by 31 Oct 01
300.0
65.0
Arrears at 31 Oct 01
100.0
20.0
500.0
110.0
Value of resources consumed
in the calendar year 2001
These are rough-and-ready figures, but they convey the nature of the problem.
Funds allocated represented approximately 4 per cent of GDP. For the future, based
on an IMF forecast GDP figure for 2005, an ‘affordable’ 2 per cent would amount to
c.KM275-300 million. That might be sufficient to maintain active forces of around
12,500 altogether. This number compares with the 48,000-plus in the three armies,
according to a late 2001 count; and with the target end-strength (2005) of just over
32,000 assumed in the May 2001 BiH Defence Policy document. (For manpower
data, see Annex to this essay, where it is noted that active strengths at end-2002
were much reduced.) Resources consumed is the striking number, however. As the
new High Representative noted in his May 2002 speech, as a proportion of GDP ‘BiH
spends twice as much on defence as the United States and four times more than the
European average’.
(When the statement was made that was the case:
appropriations in 2003 may be less burdensome.)
Small wonder that both entity governments have recently spent a lot of time working
out reduction, rationalisation and restructuring programmes for their armed forces.
Thus the 2002 defence budget of the Federation was KM270 million (pared from
KM290 million) and a reform agenda was embarked upon. This itself came with a
price-tag of c.KM100 million. The Ministry of Defence says that the KM270 million
was budgeted for ‘steady-state’ costs, not to fund material expenses, training or
technological improvements. Nor was the sum meant to cover the costs associated
with restructuring and downsizing, including severance/redundancy payments.
The situation in Republika Srpska is similar, with accumulated arrears – some KM25
million owed to suppliers and over KM70 million in unpaid salaries and contributions
at end-2001 – a major complication. The RS defence budget for 2002 was c.KM85
million.
Wrestling with big funding gaps has, however, meant modest gains for transparency.
Budget proposals for defence spending in 2002 were the first in the Yugoslav
successor state’s history to be presented, in each entity’s parliament, with a
reasonably instructive breakdown of intended expenditures. The documents were
nevertheless far less informative than would be acceptable in mature democracies.
6. Equipment acquisition
Most evidently, capital spending – such as it is – remains shrouded in mystery.
Elected representatives in BiH have never had the opportunity to scrutinise arms and
matériel acquisition or other investment activities such as construction projects.
There has also never been independent critical analysis of either procurement
choices or project management.
This may change, but probably only if the ‘integration’ agenda – based on the TriPresidency’s BiH Defence Policy text and COMSFOR’s ‘vision’ – is pursued by the
post-October 2002 coalition government.
Among other things, the 2001 policy
document says that the ‘joint military’ should be subject to:
‘Civilian command and political control over the armed forces...and the
highest possible degree of transparency in defence activities in accordance
with the standards of developed democratic countries’; and that ‘...the
armies...will become...accountable to democratically elected authorities...’
In elaborating on what a transparent approach extending to all defence activities in
BiH entails, it also mentions:
•
Transparency of the budget and foreign military assistance;
•
Full access to and oversight ... by civilian authorities exercising command and
control;
•
Openness to the media and continued informing of the public...;
The document further expresses the unexceptionable sentiment that ‘political and
civilian control over armed forces is a fundamental principle of democratic countries
and of establishing a civil society, implying the right and obligation of democratically
elected authorities to exercise their control, civilian command and steering of all
important activities in the defence field’. ‘Civilian control’, the document adds, also
means ‘developing co-operation between the parliamentary councils for defence and
security’.
If that policy statement could be implemented – and it has been agreed by the TriPresidency – it would serve BiH very well. In the meantime what the armed forces
acquire is in effect under SFOR’s supervision.
‘Nothing happens without them
knowing it’, a local observer tells us.
7. Domestic transparency in general: regular publications
There is considerable scope for improvement in the information about defence
provided to the elected chambers, interest-groups and other ‘civil society’ institutions
in the country. To date, at the state level, the citizens of BiH and their elected
representatives have seen only the aforementioned BiH Defence Policy statement of
May 2001 and a more broadly based BiH Security Policy text prepared during 2002
and distributed in 2003. At the entity level they have been better served. The entity
Ministries of Defence issue regular performance reports.
These include some
performance indicators. The defence budget is also published. In addition there are
official news publications dealing with military affairs, most of them monthlies.
8. International transparency
Until very recently Bosnia and Herzegovina’s political problems precluded data
submissions under the OSCE’s arrangements for information-exchange – as a
regional confidence- and security-building measure – in accordance with the
procedure set out in the so-called Vienna Document 1999 (VD99). As a result there
is no material for the state, or either entity, in the Stability Pact-sponsored (prototype)
Yearbook on South-east European Defence Spending (published in early 2002).
However, we understand that the relevant ‘difficulty’ has been resolved and figures
are now submitted to the OSCE as required and will, presumably, be available to the
team in Sofia producing the Yearbook.
If the ‘beyond Dayton’ activists in BiH are successful in promoting the concept of
‘integration’ of the armed forces in the country, along the lines envisaged in the BiH
Defence Policy paper, attention to international transparency will be assured. The
document says BiH will embrace international transparency by, among other things:
·
Funding and planning of defence through systems of planning, programming
and budgeting and implementation in accordance with international standards
and procedures; and
·
Ensuring full transparency of defence funding, including the transparency of
foreign financial and other assistance...
In this respect as in others, therefore, those in BiH who are striving to strengthen
state-level institutions – to permit co-ordination of the country’s security provision –
deserve all the support they can get.
Conclusion
It is difficult to summarise the present position in BiH, however, because of the
state’s unique circumstances. Attention is paid to accountability at the entity level,
though governments do not take particularly seriously their executive obligation to
‘reveal, explain and justify’ what they do and what they spend, while elected
representatives are not able effectively to hold government(s) to account. At the
state level there is no real machinery, though that is changing.
Transparency leaves a lot to be desired. What there is arises more because of
international pressures and presences than because of powerful domestic impulses.
Here too, though, the next couple of years (2003-2004) could see significant
improvement.
Several factors favour progress on the integration agenda.
One is the OHR’s
commitment to the goal and the likelihood that, following recent criticism of excessive
rule by decree, there will be serious effort to win over BiH’s own politicians to the
cause. Another is that, with the new government in Belgrade eager to win friends
and influence people across Europe, interference from that quarter – like former
President Kostunica’s regular expressions of support for Serb nationalists in RS – is
surely going to diminish; and that should give the Banja Luka leadership more
freedom of manoeuvre.
On the other hand, as The Economist has observed, many in BiH ‘would sooner have
a benevolent despot to push through change than have their own leaders in full
control’. Moreover, some analysts think that maybe one can have military integration
or democratisation in BiH, but not both.1
1
The Economist, 26 July 2003; and D. Orsini, ‘Security-Sector Reform in Bosnia-Herzegovina’, Conflict,
Security & Development, Vol. 3, No. 1, April 2003.
ANNEX TO CHAPTER FIVE
____________________________________________________
Manpower Data: BiH2
I – Strengths of Armies (late 2001): Active Forces (in thousands)
Entity
Professional Conscripts
Total
VF-B
16.6
6.0
22.6
VF-H
7.2
2.9
10.1
23.8
8.9
32.7
10.2
6.0
16.2
34.0
14.9
48.9
Federation (FBiH)
sub-total (VF)
Republika Srpska (RS)
VRS
Total
AFiBiH
[Proportions prescribed by Dayton – VF-B:VF-H to be 2.3:1
2
VF:VRS to be 2:1]
Numbers actually serving in late 2002 were, apparently near to the figures under II above. This is
because of a first phase of professional manpower rundown and a suspension of conscript intakes
(actions taken for financial reasons).
II – Target End Strengths (2005): Active Forces (in thousands)
(according to BiH Defence Policy document, May 2001)
Entity
Professional
Conscripts
Total
Federation (FBiH)
VF-B
9.2
6.0
15.2
VF-H
4.0
2.4
6.4
13.2
8.4
21.6
6.6
4.2
10.8
19.8
12.6
32.4
sub-total (VF)
Republika Srpska
VRS
Total AFiBiH
[For the Wartime Mobilisable Strength figure, add Reserve Forces as follows: VF-B –
115,000; VF-H – 45,000; and VRS – 80,000.]
CHAPTER SIX
____________________________________________________
BULGARIA
The offer of membership extended by NATO at its November 2002 Prague Summit
was, in part anyway, recognition of the attention paid to security-sector reform in
Bulgaria lately. The armed forces are being cut down to size and reorganised, with
appropriate attention to personnel resettlement and the reformulation of mission
priorities. Obsolescent equipment is being stripped from inventories and redundant
infrastructure released for other uses. Long-running turf battles between the General
Staff and the civilian-led Ministry of Defence have come to an end, for all practical
purposes. At the Ministry there is a new Defence Policy and Planning Directorate
that is refining an ambitious ‘Integrated Defence Resource Management System’; the
Armaments Planning Directorate is gearing itself to tackle the business of overdue
arms modernisation; and a more informative budget presentation was put in place for
2003-2005. (The country’s defence industries, however, continue to languish largely
unreformed: the national record on ‘conversion’ is patchy.)
Within the National Assembly the oversight apparatus has been overhauled. In the
new set-up one committee covers ‘foreign affairs and defence’ and another the state
organs concerned with internal security. In the past one commission dealt with both.
(Reform of the national border guards, customs organisation, police forces, security
services and intelligence agencies is reportedly proceeding, but is simply noted
here.)
1. Culture
In line with all this there has been a major shift in the official attitude toward
transparency and accountability, especially in the defence sector. Under the ancien
regime – that is until the end of the 1980s – the Communist Party felt under no
obligation to reveal, explain and justify its military dispositions. Secrecy ruled so far
as the details of provision were concerned. During the first years of the transition
period there were some changes, but they were very modest. The National Assembly
began to get budgetary information, for example – a few generalised figures – but
there was a complete lack of reflection and analysis, discussion and debate. There
was also no inclination to release data to other ‘civil society’ institutions, the media, or
the public-at-large. Nor was there real legislative oversight of either security policy or
defence spending. According to a knowledgeable local observer three prerequisites
were lacking: a sound road-map for democratisation, including the introduction of
‘democratic-style civil-military relations’; the political will to effect change in the
direction and management of the armed forces, including the practice of ‘civilian
control’; and a sound legislative basis for military reform.
The legal framework was put in place in the second half of the 1990s. A new Law on
Defence and the Armed Forces was adopted in 1995, a Law on the National Auditing
Palace and an Organic Law on the State Budget were passed in 1996. The 19972001 Kostov administration then carried things forward, driven by the quest for
admission to NATO and attentive to that Organisation’s expectations and
requirements. Thus a new National Security Concept and National Military Doctrine
appeared, and received parliamentary approval, in 1999. These provided the basis
for a blueprint for reduction, rationalisation and restructuring of the armed forces –
popularly known as Plan 2004 – plus a reform agenda incorporating ‘transparency
and accountability’ elements designed to bring national policy and practice into line
with ‘NATO standards’.
Accountability remains imperfect.
The Ministry of Defence (MoD) enjoys
considerable freedom of manoeuvre in resource allocation and resources
management (within its budgetary ‘envelope’); day-to-day legislative oversight of
military matters is still insubstantial and the wider discussion of security priorities
intermittent.
On the other hand, there is significantly greater transparency than there used to be in
the conduct of security affairs and therefore more public debate (and popular
understanding of key issues) than before. Publications have played an important role
here. A White Paper on Defence was produced in 2001/2 (first online, later in a
bi-lingual Bulgarian and English text), following an extensive consultation process.
The Kostov government started the practice of presenting to the legislature two
documents, viz. an Annual Report on National Security (drafted by an
interdepartmental group) and an Annual Report on Defence and the Armed Forces
(prepared by the MoD). The successor Coburgotski administration has continued
this. Both the documents receive quite thorough parliamentary scrutiny. In addition,
Bulgaria’s submissions to NATO as part of the Membership Action Plan (MAP)
process – a series of Annual National Programmes (ANPs) – have been generally
well publicised in Bulgaria, as has the feedback from Brussels. (Note, though, that
since aspirant members have to show that they can keep NATO’s secrets, some say
preparation for accession has meant putting the clock back on transparency. To
satisfy NATO in this regard, Bulgaria has recently passed one Law on Access to
Public Information and another for Protection of Classified Information which critics
say will have this effect. The same problem has arisen in Romania.)
Besides improving domestic transparency, the Bulgarians have also been active
recently in promoting international transparency in their neighbourhood, with
particular reference to budgets and budgeting, under the aegis of the Stability Pact
for South-Eastern Europe.
They have been instrumental in producing a (pilot)
Yearbook on South-East European Defence Spending (2002) and a second edition
plus a companion Survey of South-East European Defence Budgeting Systems are
scheduled to follow (2003).
2. Policy Accountability
It is not explicitly stated in the Constitution or in the Law on Defence and the Armed
Forces that the administration must reveal, explain and justify its policy and plans in
the security domain (in the full meaning of policy accountability).
Articles in the
Constitution prescribe that the National Assembly shall exercise parliamentary
‘control’ and the executive has to provide the information necessary for that.
However, there are no details about the format of information or the deadlines for its
presentation. Two important obligations do facilitate accountability, though: (a) that
of the Prime Minister – acting on behalf of the Council of Ministers – to present his
Annual Report on Defence and the Armed Forces; and (b) that of the National Audit
Office (or ‘Palace’) to report annually.
Several basic texts provide the legislative basis for the defence sector: the Bulgarian
Constitution, the Law on Defence and the Armed Forces, a Law for Public
Administration, a Law for the Auditing Palace, one covering Access to Public
Information, and another on the Protection of Classified Information. The most
relevant articles are presented below.
Constitution
Article 90 [Interpellations]:
(1) Members of the National Assembly shall have the right to address
questions and interpellations to the Council of Ministers and to individual
ministers, who shall be obligated to respond.
(2) A motion by one-fifth of the Members of the National Assembly shall be
required to turn an interpellation into a debate on which a resolution shall be
passed.
Article 91 [Accountancy Chamber];
(1) The National Assembly shall establish an Accountancy Chamber to control
the implementation of the budget.
(2) The organization, authority, and procedures by which the Accountancy
Chamber shall act shall be established by law.
Law on Defence and Armed Forces
Article 32:
(a) On behalf of the Council of Ministers the Prime Minister of the Republic of
Bulgaria shall put forward in the National Assembly a report on the state of
defence and the Armed Forces.
Also the Council of Ministers shall put forward in the Parliament a draft State
Budget (including the Budget of the Ministry of Defence), a draft Military
Doctrine, draft National Security Concept, and proposals for the size of the
Armed Forces. The Prime Minister and respective ministers must respond to
parliamentary interpellations.
Law on state administration
Article 2:
(1) The administration in carrying out its activities follows the principles of
legality, transparency, accessibility, responsibility and coordination.
(2) The administration is obliged to present information to the citizens, legal
entities and organs of the state authorities in accordance with the law.
(3) The administration is obliged to answer to the citizens and legal entities to
their questions, requests, proposals and communications in their legal interest
according to the law.
None of this requires the executive to inform and/or consult elected representatives
in the course of policy-making and planning (though ministers must report the results
of their thinking).
In principle, however the legislature’s right to know is
acknowledged, so the National Assembly could demand dialogue. ‘And here is the
problem’ a local expert tells us, ‘Parliament may, but also may not, require
information from the executive power: because they do not know what to ask,
because of other important business, for party-political reasons’. ‘Also’, the same
commentator points out, ‘the Government could fulfil its obligations, but in short form
or allowing too little time for recipients to digest its output’.
It is significant, though, that major policy statements, five-year plans and similar
important texts do not require a parliamentary vote of approval.
This applies to
blueprints like the Plan 2004, major programmes, the national submissions under
NATO’s Membership Action Plan (MAP) procedure, and so on. These are in the
competence of the executive power (mainly according to the Law on Defence and the
Armed Forces) and do not require a parliamentary vote. Thus the government has
considerable margin for manoeuvre within the general political and financial
framework that the legislature has approved.
There are thus limits to what can be accomplished by the all-party committee that is
empowered to oversee the executive’s actions in the defence and security arena.
Established under constitutional authority, this body came into being in 1991 – as the
National Security Committee – with a remit embracing external security and defence,
internal security affairs, military-industrial matters and related international questions.
In 2001, however, the Coburgotski administration redefined the work and the
functions of the commission and it was renamed the Committee on Foreign Affairs,
Defence and Security (CFADS). This was almost certainly done to bring all issues
related to Bulgaria’s NATO accession efforts within the compass of one
parliamentary body. (There is now a separate Committee on Internal Security and
Public Order.)
Like all the country’s parliamentary committees the CFADS is an all-party
commission, its size and composition determined by the National Assembly in
accordance with the legislature’s regulations. The present body has 25 members.
The structure of political representation reflects that of the elected chamber itself.
Usually the opposition receives two or three Committee Chairmanships and in all
other Committees the Deputy Chairmanship.
The chair of the security-sector
committee(s) is, however, almost invariably taken by a nominee of the ruling party.
Formally, though, there is flexibility: it depends on the political configuration of the
parliament, the composition of the government plus political agreements and support.
The National Assembly has an elaborate committee structure. Its formal basis, the
authority for all committees’ powers, and related aspects of parliamentary procedure
are summarised below.
Constitution
Article 79 [Committees]:
(1) The National Assembly shall elect permanent and ad hoc committees from
among its Members.
(2) The permanent committees shall aid the work of the National Assembly and
shall exercise parliamentary control on its behalf.
(3) Ad hoc committees shall be elected to conduct inquiries and investigations.
Article 80 [Testimony]:
Any official or citizen summoned by a parliamentary commission is obliged to
testify and present any required documents.
Article 82 [Publicity]:
Sessions of the National Assembly shall be public. The National Assembly may
by exception resolve to hold some sessions behind closed doors.
Article 83 [Government Participation]:
(1) Ministers shall be free to attend the sessions of the National Assembly and
the parliamentary committees. They shall be given priority in addressing the
Members.
(2) The National Assembly and the parliamentary committees shall be free to
order ministers to attend their sessions and respond to questions.
This is a sound statutory basis for oversight and holding ministers accountable for
what they do. The question is: Do governments in general – and the administration
in power at present (2002/3) – acknowledge and observe their constitutional, legal or
other mandatory obligations vis-à-vis defence and security policy-making and
planning?
Opinion in Bulgaria is that by and large they do. In general, one correspondent tells
us, ‘there are no conflicts between the Parliament and the Government’ on core
security issues. Obviously this could reflect the broad consensus about priorities that
currently prevails. On the other hand procedure and practice underpin accountability
in a very direct way.
Every Friday ministers are obliged to answer elected
representatives’ challenges in a set-piece Question Time. The occasion is broadcast
live on national radio and TV. Members of the Assembly can put additional questions
and make comments. If they are not satisfied with official responses there can be
open discussion; and matters in dispute will certainly be examined by the media.
The possibility of this sort of exposure perhaps explains why there are instances of
issues where the executive, though clearly empowered to act without reference to the
legislature, has opted to propose action and seek parliamentary support before
proceeding. The destruction of Bulgaria’s medium-range ballistic missiles (Scud and
SS-23) is a recent case in point. In fact it is generally the case, we are told, that
parliamentarians, especially relevant committees, are informed in advance – and
‘sounded out’ – about draft laws, government initiatives and plans. (In this respect, it
would appear Sofia has taken a leaf from Bucharest’s book, or vice versa.)
That said, there are those in the Bulgarian security community – notably people who
served in the Kostov administration 1997-2001 and are now with NGOs or elsewhere
– who think the Coburgotski government attaches less importance to transparency
than it should, especially regarding capital projects. In response, MoD officials have
raised the evergreen ‘authority versus accountability’ issue. We return to this theme
later.
At the heart of the problem is the ambiguity surrounding the executive’s obligation to
‘reveal, explain and justify’ its actions.
The relevant legislation establishes the
obligation, but does not specify how it is to be discharged. In the case of the now
annual Report on Defence and the Armed Forces, for example, there are no hard
and fast rules about when it should be presented to the legislature (before or after
elected representatives have voted on the budget), what kind of information should
be given, how much time should be allowed for debate on it, and so on.
Put another way, the limits of executive authority have to be inferred from the rights
and responsibilities of the legislature.
On these the Constitution’s Article 84
[Functions] says that the National Assembly shall:
1) pass, amend, and rescind laws;
2) pass the state budget bill and the budget report;
3) establish the taxes and their size;
4) schedule the elections for a President of the Republic;
5) resolve on the holding of a national referendum;
6) elect and dismiss the Prime Minister and, on his motion, the members of the
Council of Ministers; effect changes in the government on a motion from the
Prime Minister;
7) create, transform and close down ministries on a motion from the Prime
Minister;
8) elect and dismiss the Governor of the Bulgarian National Bank and the
heads of other institutions established by law;
9) approve state-loan agreements;
10) resolve on the declaration of war and conclusion of peace;
11) approve any deployment and use of Bulgarian armed forces outside the
country's borders, and the deployment of foreign troops on the territory of the
country or their crossing of that territory;
12) on a motion from the President or the Council of Ministers, introduce martial
law or a state of emergency on all or part of the country's territory;
13) grant amnesty;
14) institute orders and medals;
15) establish the official holidays.
The following Article 85 [International Instruments] says that:
(1) the National Assembly shall ratify or denounce by law all international
instruments which:
1) are of a political or military nature;
2)
concern
the
Republic
of
Bulgaria's
participation
in
international
organizations;
3) envisage corrections to the borders of the Republic of Bulgaria;
4) contain obligations for the treasury;
5) envisage the state's participation in international arbitration or legal
proceedings;
6) concern fundamental human rights;
7) affect the action of the law or require new legislation in order to be enforced;
8) expressly require ratification.
(2) Treaties ratified by the National Assembly may be amended or denounced
only by their built-in procedure or in accordance with the universally
acknowledged norms of international law.
(3)
The
conclusion
of
an
international
treaty
requiring
an
amendment to the Constitution shall be preceded by the passage of such an
amendment.
Next, Article 86 [Binding Laws and Resolutions] says that:
(1) The National Assembly shall pass laws, resolutions, declarations, and
addresses.
(2) The laws and resolutions passed by the National Assembly shall be binding
on all state bodies, all organizations, and all citizens.
It is easy to see how these generalities create room for differing interpretations of
how day-to-day executive-legislature relations should be conducted.
There is a further question. The current Law on Defence and the Armed Forces was
approved in 1995, a National Security Concept was endorsed in 1998, and the
country’s Military Doctrine one year later. What is not clearly stated in the Law is
how regularly such key policy material should be put before elected representatives
(the ‘updating’ issue). Other countries, notably Romania, have very precise rules
about this.
This matters because governments can temporise. Thus authorised strength figures
for the armed forces were last sanctioned in 1999, although the opportunity to revise
the old – and outdated – number had existed for some time (under the 1995 Law).
Also, some annual reports of the Audit Palace have been debated and approved by
the National Assembly up to three years after their submission.
Clearly if there is no disposition to have timescales enshrined in law there should be
a code of practice that prevents – or at least inhibits – delaying tactics by the
administration. There is no problem, of course, when the executive itself wants to
amend the legislation. Thus, the Law on the Defence and the Armed Forces was
amended and added to in April 2002 to bring the Military Information Service, the
National Intelligence Service and the National Security Service within its ambit.
As a last topic under the ‘policy accountability’ heading we have to ask if the
legislative branch actively uses its oversight powers or are a majority of
parliamentarians content to play a ‘rubber-stamp’ role, especially individuals affiliated
to the party-in-office.
The answers are not straightforward. ‘Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t.’
‘Sometimes they are passive, sometimes active.’ It depends. The salience of the
issue, the political complexion of the elected chamber, and many other factors enter
the reckoning.
We note, though, that in the national security area rank-and-file
lawmakers are generally inclined to concede the leading role in policy-making and
planning to the government, which is in no way at odds with the constitution and
statutes. In most matters anyway the initiative necessarily lies with the executive.
(There is more on this in the promised ‘authority versus accountability’ discussion in
s.6 below.)
The CFADS is nevertheless fairly active.
It meets weekly (on Tuesdays).
It
scrutinises draft laws, resolutions, and other material, at least nominally. It uses its
right to summon state officials for interrogation. It takes such ‘evidence’, however,
usually at ‘closed’ working meetings – of which no Minutes are published – and not at
confrontational ‘hearings’ held in public.
Moreover, what would happen if a top
politician, official or officer were to ignore a committee summons has yet to be tested.
Observers think that the elected representatives’ enforcement powers are ill-defined
and it is not clear what sanctions they could bring to bear (if any).
Also there must be question-marks over the quality of the oversight they are able to
exercise. The CFADS can appoint advisers and has some staff support. It does not,
however, have the resources to hire external expertise. No doubt this is one reason
why neither the present commission nor its predecessor(s) has gained any sort of
reputation for thoroughgoing scrutiny of major ‘doctrine and strategy’ documents,
policy statements and proposals, even in the recent past when Bulgaria has been
deeply involved in reshaping its national defences. In a phrase, the watchdog barks,
it does not bite.
3. Financial Accountability
When it comes to what they spend (as opposed to what they do), the obligation on
Bulgarian governments to ‘reveal, explain and justify’ – and the mirror-image
responsibility of the elected chamber to see that they do – is similarly clear in
principle, but ambiguous in the details (so that fulfilment can be a matter of dispute).
The clarity is evident in Article 17 of the Law on Defence and the Armed Forces,
which says that the National Assembly shall approve the MoD’s budget, not as a
single sum but under three heads – operating costs (current expenditure), investment
costs and defence R&D; and this is what happened in practice until 2002. Equally
clearly, the Organic Law on the State Budget says that the government shall account
ex post for all its outlays, including military spending; and the execution of the
defence budget is indeed accounted for in accordance with this requirement.
However, the administration has not hitherto had to disclose its intentions with
respect to expenditures beyond the immediately forthcoming financial year.
The
National Assembly might be invited to endorse medium- and longer-term budgetary
projections, but that was a matter of executive discretion. Nor was the provision of
detailed breakdowns of planned spending obligatory. Recent annual Reports on the
state of defence have contained revealing financial material, as does the 2001/2
White Paper on Defence, but the responsible government(s) volunteered the
information. The executive branch had to submit its draft State Budget (with the
defence component), an annual Report on the State of Defence and the Armed
Forces, and a Report on the Execution of the State Budget (of which Defence
Accounts are a part). Formally it did not have to do more. In fact it did do more, and
will have to do more still in future because a new approach to dealing with Bulgaria’s
public finances has been introduced.
Put briefly, the State Budget is now to be drawn up for a three-year period (starting
2003-2005) and broken down by functions, programmes within functions, and budget
appropriations within programmes.
Furthermore, elucidation and explanations for
budget changes are to be produced.
The defence budget for 2003(-2005) was
submitted according to these prescriptions.
This is a major enhancement of financial accountability. It remains true, though, that
elected representatives do not have a statutory right to be informed and/or consulted
in the course of programming and budgeting for defence. They simply get to see the
results of such activity when called on to pass the budget and at such other times as
it suits the powers-that-be to put them in the picture. It is recognised, however, that
to do the latter from time to time may be ‘good practice’ – and is certainly good
politics – even though such engagement of the legislature is not codified in any way.
At least in Bulgaria funds for defence are voted on as a distinct element within the
overall state budget; and the National Assembly is given time to review what it is
being asked to approve. The schedule is tight, however. The Council of Ministers
must submit the draft State Budget before the end of September: in the ‘new model’
format from September 2002. This gives three months for discussion before the
authorising vote which has to take place before the end of the calendar year. In fact,
of course, there can be debate on expenditure choices, also involving ‘civil society’
institutions, in anticipation of their appearance in the formal context of the budget.
Examination of the budget is, naturally, a matter for committees rather than ‘the
whole house’ of elected representatives. The defence element is scrutinised by the
CFADS, at its regular Tuesday meetings in this period, and officials may be called to
‘explain and justify’ particular sections and even line-items of the MoD’s funding
request. No less important, to inform its scrutiny the commission has had, and now
must get, supplementary material – programme budgets, expenditure projections,
facts and figures about major capital projects – and in future may get more than it
can digest. When it, and other committees, have had initial deliberations and formed
‘opinions’ (usually voted on in committee), the Committee on Budget and Finance –
the leading committee in budget affairs – presents the draft State Budget for first
reading.
This is a ‘registration’ milestone: proposals for change emerge between the first and
second reading. Discussions on the defence budget in this phase go together with
debate on the whole budget and last several days. But it is days rather than weeks;
and there is rarely sufficient time for the CFADS to solicit specific external advice or
conduct detailed inquiries. (This is when the CFADS does its main work. During
October-December it may have up to 20 working meetings. The ‘whole house’ might
devote 5-6 plenary sessions to the budget overall.)
It has to be said, though, that there are severe constraints on what changes can be
sought. In the first place, the National Assembly’s right to alter line-items is largely
nominal. We are told there would be ‘co-ordination’ with the Council of Ministers if
any change to the balance among spending categories were thought desirable. In
the second place, Bulgaria’s wish to meet NATO’s expectations and requirements
regarding defence restructuring sets limits to the distribution of MoD funds. Of even
greater importance in Bulgarian conditions is that aggregate government expenditure
and the pattern of spending must at the end of the day satisfy fiscal imperatives
dictated by the country’s Currency Board arrangement and, in particular, the
‘conditionality’ provisions associated with various IMF and World Bank support
programmes. In a very real sense Bulgarian governments are primarily accountable
– for what they spend and how they spend – less to their own citizens than to
Brussels bureaucrats and the Washington-based international financial institutions
(IFIs).
This goes for ex post as well as ex ante accountability, in the sense that reassuring
the IFIs that money goes where it is supposed to go counts for as much as satisfying
the National Assembly that funds were spent as intended.
On this subject, the key Bulgarian institution is the National Audit Palace (created in
1996). The responsibilities of this office embrace all areas of government activity,
including the security sector. On its staff are inspectors who specialise in defence
work: and they have the powers and the access to fulfil their investigative function.
However, unlike audit bureaux in some mature democracies – the British National
Audit Office and the American General Accounting Office, for instance – the ‘palace’
confines its work, in the defence sphere as elsewhere, to statutory audit business
(monitoring the legality and propriety of spending): it does hardly any ‘value for
money’ inquiries (looking at the economy, efficiency and effectiveness with which the
taxpayers’ money is used).
Two questions arise when evaluating financial accountability: (1) do ministers
acknowledge and observe their executive obligation(s) in this regard, and (2) does
the elected chamber fulfil its legislative responsibility for exercising diligent oversight
of what is done with taxpayers’ – and constituents’ – money?
The answer to (1) is that in Bulgaria governments do on the whole recognise their
democratic duty. They certainly comply with the letter of the law, and even – as in
making ‘supplementary’ material available to the CFADS – go further than that,
something they have been obliged to do since the 2003(-2005) budget ‘round’ under
the reformed system noted earlier. Earlier the need to provide information about
accomplishments and intentions to NATO, and the individual member-states of that
Organisation assessing the Bulgarian candidacy, prompted openness.
So did
NATO’s insistence that supportive public attitudes to defence are a plus-point when
readiness for accession is evaluated. At the same time some servants of the post2001
Coburgotski
administration
have
argued
that
democratically-elected
governments have been given the authority to govern and must be allowed to do so,
without constant reference to parliamentarians and civil society generally. Attention
to accountability (and transparency) is all well and good, they say, but can be taken
too far. Good governance campaigners are disposed to set ever higher thresholds
when they consider ‘how much is enough?’: it is pertinent to ask ‘how much may be
too much?’ also. (More on this later.)
The answer to (2) is that Bulgaria’s National Assembly does use its powers to
scrutinise spending and spending plans. However, we need to ask here the auxiliary
question: does it do so effectively or are members inclined to give ‘rubber-stamp’
approval to whatever government proposes?
‘The situation is somewhere in-between’ writes a local observer. ‘There are
opportunities for more active use of the power of the parliament – in hearings (closed
or public), in publications, in debates on some special question, in more detailed
scrutiny of reports covering what has been spent and of specific projects [upon which
money is to be spent in future].’ The activity level here, the same source says,
depends heavily on the political configuration of the elected chamber. Relevant too
is the fact that, usually, the leader of the governing party is Prime Minister and thus
also the ‘party boss’ of his faction’s representation there. Individual parliamentarians
are influenced by that (though probably not so much as in, say, the old FRY). At
least the best of them ‘try not to be a rubber-stamp when they participate in debates
and scrutinise proposals’, says our correspondent.
Committee members could, of course, be more active and more effective if they had
better
staff support and
better access
to
‘outside’
analysts.
Bulgarian
parliamentarians do have some support: but it is ‘relatively modest’ (according to a
local contact). Legislators therefore have to rely very largely on what they can do
themselves with the documentation, facts and figures that the government provides.
Obviously it would be useful if they had access to regular and comprehensive
independent commentary. This is lacking. As noted the audit ‘palace’ does not have
the capacity to do much work on the efficiency and effectiveness of military spending;
and Sofia’s ‘security community’ takes up and illuminates issues from time to time,
but not in a systematic way.
4. Transparency in policy-making and planning
It is clear from the foregoing discussion of accountability that, so far as the
dissemination of information in the ‘policy-making and planning’ area is concerned, in
Bulgaria there are few hard and fast rules about exactly what the executive has a
duty to provide and exactly what the legislature has the right to demand (on its own
account or in the name of society-at-large). In these circumstances the authorities
publish what they must and what it suits them to make known.
The elected
representatives get what they are entitled to receive, plus supplementary data, and
can – but rarely do – ask for more (which they may or may not get).
There is no doubt that since the early 1990s successive governments have, as a
general rule, been progressively more forthcoming with facts and figures for domestic
consumption (and more relaxed about international transparency). This evolution
may have faltered since the 1997-2001 Kostov administration quit office, but there is
no evidence of a marked reversion to secretiveness. In fact, on the budgetary side
the opposite is true (see s.5 below).
What is most interesting is the likely effect on practice of the interplay, or tension,
between
•
a Law on Access to Public Information which recently appeared on the statute
book, asserting every citizen’s right of access to ‘public’ information; and
•
a new Law on the Protection of Classified Information (published officially on
30 April 2002) which places whole swathes of material outside the ‘public’
category.
The latest ordinance was drafted expressly to reassure NATO that Bulgaria would be
able to safeguard alliance secrets and is reportedly more restrictive than the
legislation in place before.
(There are cases elsewhere of the Political Affairs
specialists in Brussels calling for greater transparency in the conduct of defence
affairs – in the name of promoting ‘democratic-style civil-military relations’ – while the
Security fraternity are demanding watertight provisions for the ‘protection’ of
(sometimes absurdly) classified information.)
We must hope – and it is a reasonable expectation – that good sense will prevail with
experience of the new ground-rules. It is possible that nothing much will change.
Executive discretion will continue to be all-important. Ministers, senior officers and
officials will release what must be made known, neither more nor less. The National
Assembly will have constantly to assert its (and the public’s) ‘right to know’ and resist
any proliferation of ‘need to know’ restrictions by nervous or over-zealous
bureaucrats; or, if it comes to that, by top brass seeking a quiet life and claiming that
they are simply applying ‘NATO standards’ to information security.
Any adverse impact on public information policy and practice would be particularly
unfortunate. Bulgaria has made great strides in this area in recent years.
At least there are basic constitutional obstacles to retrogression towards
secretiveness. Provisions directly or indirectly relevant here include the following.
Article 38 [Freedom of Opinion]:
No one shall be persecuted or restricted in his rights because of his views, nor
shall be obligated or forced to provide information about his own or another
person's views.
Article 39 [Expression]:
(1) Everyone is entitled to express an opinion or to publicize it through words,
written or oral, sound, or image, or in any other way.
(2) This right shall not be used to the detriment of the rights and reputation of
others, or for the incitement of a forcible change of the constitutionally
established order, the perpetration of a crime, or the incitement of enmity or
violence against anyone.
Article 40 [Press, Media]:
(1) The press and the other mass information media are free and shall not be
subjected to censorship.
(2) An injunction on or a confiscation of printed matter or another information
medium shall be allowed only through an act of the judicial authorities in the
case of an encroachment on public decency or incitement of a forcible change
of the constitutionally established order, the perpetration of a crime, or the
incitement of violence against anyone. An injunction suspension shall lose
force if not followed by a confiscation within 24 hours.
Article 41 [Information]:
(1) Everyone is entitled to seek, obtain, and disseminate information. This right
shall not be exercised to the detriment of the rights and reputation of others, or
to the detriment of national security, public order, public health, and morality.
(2) Citizens shall be entitled to obtain information from state bodies and
agencies on any matter of legitimate interest to them which is not a state or
official secret and does not affect the rights of others.
Note, though, that the impact of provisions like Article 41 depends wholly on the
interpretation of expressions like ‘to the detriment of national security’ or the definition
of what is or is not a ‘state or official secret’.
As already stated, the ‘limits of
transparency’ will be set in future, as they are now, principally by executive discretion
(with occasional juridical intervention, perhaps).
The new legal framework should certainly not prevent the dissemination of essential
information about policy issues under discussion, force structure plans in preparation,
and so on. The recent Bulgarian record here is fair. The powers-that-be could have
kept the public better informed about the final preparation of the National Security
Concept (1998) and Military Doctrine (1999) documents. In fact, however, although
these texts were produced in some haste ahead of NATO’s 1999 Washington
Summit which precluded wide consultation and popular debate, this rush to print
followed years of procrastination during which most of the main matters at issue were
extensively aired. The subsequent key blueprint for the reduction, restructuring and
rationalisation of the Bulgarian armed forces – short title Plan 2004 – was obviously
produced ‘in-house’, but not in such total secrecy that options could not be
discussed. Moreover, once more or less finalised, the prospectus was widely briefed
and presented to interest-groups and society-at-large. In the preparation of other
major policy statements – a draft Law for Defence Industry, the first-ever White Paper
on Defence, the latest ‘Modernization Plan 2015’ – there has been ‘outside’ input to
the decision-making process from academics, analysts, and others.
The recurring theme in this essay – authority versus accountability – crops up here
again, however, with particular reference to Plan 2004. There was little or no direct
parliamentary input to the preparation of this crucial text. The National Assembly
accepted that force structure planning lay in the competence of the Council of
Ministers, and did little more than formally endorse the blueprint. (Refinements and
revisions have been treated similarly.) It should be added, though, that in the later
stages of Plan 2004’s creation there was no lack of information around about the
main goals and timetable of the prospectus. Moreover, the legislature had earlier
voted on the authorised strength of the armed forces (peacetime and wartime), the
central parameter of the planning exercise.
Having said this, ‘authority’ rules when it comes to providing facts and figures about
force structure, force levels, equipment and deployment routinely, year in year out (in
regular publications or elsewhere). There is just enough authoritative information to
permit well-informed and in-depth policy discourse in the country’s wider national
‘security community’ and generally.
aggregated figures must suffice.
Key data are classified.
Stylised facts and
(The new Law for Protection of Classified
Information is going to perpetuate this state of affairs.)
What is now interesting is that Bulgaria has announced that a ‘strategic defence
review’ is to be conducted in 2003-4 ahead of accession to NATO and the authorities
have said they will consult widely in the process. It will be worth observing this
exercise.
5. Transparency in programming and budgeting
Until recently aggregated figures are all that Bulgarian governments have been
formally obliged to produce about past outlays, current expenditure, and budgeted
expenditure.
So far as the latter is concerned, however, the ‘new model’
arrangements – applying from 2003(-2005) – have transformed the situation: from a
transparency standpoint, for the better.
As outlined earlier, in September 2002 the National Assembly got a budget
submission from the MoD
•
covering three years (2003-2005);
•
broken down by programmes (objectives and missions or outputs), by budgetholders at a second level, and by budget appropriations (for inputs); and
•
supported by a lot of explanatory material, including a Logistic Plan and a
Construction List (detailing projects and military infrastructure to be built,
modernised or repaired).
The material ran to hundreds of pages. The effect – and the intended effect, an
insider says – is to ‘promote transparency, understanding, and democratic control’.
The programme structure is set out in the bi-lingual 2002 Defence White Paper. It is
a 13-item categorisation.
1. Land Forces
2. Air Force
3. Navy
4. Central administration and logistics
5. Participation in multinational formations
6. Education and training
7. Security: Military Police and Counter-intelligence
8. ‘Co-operation and Integration’
9. Quality of Life
10. R&D
11. Administration and Support
12. Command, control, computers, communications,
information, surveillance and reconnaissance systems
(D41SR)
13. ‘Military Information’
The White Paper also contains expenditure projections to 2007 plus informative
indicators like how the ‘cost per serviceman’ measure will evolve over the same
period.
Executive discretion will however remain the name of the game where day-to-day
dissemination of material on expenditures is concerned. Such obligations as exist
are very general ones.
Time will tell whether the 2002 Law for Protection of
Classified Information will make the authorities more or less inclined to practise ‘open
government’ in this respect.
Relevant here too, however, is the disposition of
individual citizens and other legal entities to ask for material, using their rights under
the Law for Access to Public Information and earlier statutes. There have been no
high-profile test cases on this.
There might be the basis for an action – against the unlawful withholding of
information, for example – in provisions of the Constitution, the Organic Law on the
State Budget, the Law on Defence and the Armed Forces or the two statutes cited in
the preceding paragraph.
Looking at the information issue specifically in relation to the MoD’s preparation of its
budget request for 2002 created some difficulty for us. This was ‘not a good year’ for
forming a view on Bulgarian practice, because of the 2001 election, the time it took
ex-king Simeon (Coburgotski) to put in place his ministerial team, the time they took
to appoint deputies and key officials, and the time they took to familiarise themselves
with their departments and so on. (The hiatus was a serious problem all round, not
only for transparency.) The effect in our area of interest was that the 2002 defence
budget was not fully discussed in terms of alternatives and structural adjustments.
The infant administration made a virtue of necessity by asserting that no radical
changes to the programme-in-being were necessary and opted to continue the
reshaping of the nation’s defences according to the prescriptions of Plan 2004
(marginally revised to take account of feedback from NATO under the MAP process).
As for how ministers and ministries conducted themselves in preparation of the 2003
budget – or the 2003-2005 projection, under the new arrangements – there are,
again, problems. In the weeks before NATO’s November Summit Bulgarian security
politics went into suspended animation: nobody wanted to argue about defence
resource allocation for fear of putting at risk the expected invitation to accession. In
the weeks after getting the call the condition persisted, as the country celebrated its
accomplishment. In other circumstances, though, we think that the authorities would
have been fairly open about their decision-making.
On the other hand, to repeat a point made earlier, commitment to the concept of
‘open decisions, openly arrived at’ is still not universal in Sofia, partly because some
significant voices in decision-making about the public finances – notably those of the
IMF and the World Bank – exert such a powerful, and sometimes an overriding,
influence on outcomes.
Another necessary comment on Bulgarian practice, compared with that in many
mature democracies, is that only very rarely are there sound analyses available of
the economic and social impact of defence spending (and changes therein), including
industrial and balance of payments consequences. Often there are no clear official
positions on these matters either. Thus until 1999 there was no coherent approach
to the resettlement of redundant military personnel. Also, there is still a ‘black hole’
where defence-industrial policy should be, one into which many once-substantial
enterprises may yet disappear.
On a more positive note, in Bulgaria the defence ministry’s budget does at least
record virtually all the country’s expenditures for military purposes. There is hardly
any defence-related expenditure ‘hidden’ in other departments’ budgets. It was not
always so. Until the end of the 1990s there were several thousand troops on the
books of the Ministry of the Interior, the Ministry of Transport and the Ministry of
Construction. These no longer exist. At present, with minor exceptions, the defence
budget is the budget of the MoD. (Of course, the exceptions depend on how defence
spending is defined. In Bulgaria, the cost of military pensions does not fall on the
MoD’s budget, for example, although the Ministry does make payments to social
insurance funds towards the cost of future benefits for serving personnel. Also, a
small amount of resources is allocated to a (demilitarised) state agency for Civil
Protection, and there are sums also for war preparedness and reserve stocks.)
Nor does Bulgaria engage in ‘off-budget’ funding such as may come from special
provision (for one-off equipment or infrastructure modernisation, for instance). The
MoD did get part of the proceeds of the sale of a second GSM operator licence in the
country, as compensation for relinquishing some radio frequencies. But the money
went for modification or replacement of equipment for use on other frequencies.
The Bulgarian military do, however, engage in commercial activities, and benefit from
income produced by them. This is a potential complication so far as transparency is
concerned, though not to the extent here that it is in South-East Asia, for example.
The forces may retain income from privatisation transactions and sales of military
equipment.
They also have revenue from work done in repair enterprises, the
leasing of military housing, and from shops, restaurants, hotels and publishing
houses.
Net income from such activities is taken into account in the MoD’s
budgeting, however. The only wholly non-transparent funding – broad totals apart –
is that for military intelligence and counterintelligence (the Bulgarian euphemism is
‘Military Information’); but we understand that legislators can get ‘sanitised’ details
about resource allocation even here.
6. Equipment acquisition
It may be easier to get information about intelligence activities than it is to get
authoritative material about capital spending, if some local observers are to be
believed.
It would appear that the Bulgarian government is not clearly obliged to provide to the
legislature and/or the general public comprehensive information about imminent
procurement choices. In Western European countries elected representatives would
typically be kept au fait with most aspects of an investment project, viz. (a) options
under consideration, (b) tendering arrangements (including names of would-be
suppliers), (c) criteria for contractor selection, (d) details of the winning bid (and why
it won), (e) the value of the eventual contract and its terms (including any so-called
‘offset’ obligations associated with it), (f) any rules laid down for re-negotiation in
given circumstances.
The Bulgarian MoD does not have to tell the National
Assembly about any of the above.
Nor does it have to report on contract
performance over the project’s life, including contingencies like cost escalation, inservice date slippage and so on. It is in fact explicitly stated in the Bulgarian Law for
Public Tender that relevant provisions in that law – concerning transparency,
openness, and competition – need not be followed where national security is
involved.
There is not even a formal requirement for parliamentary approval of ‘big ticket’
equipment acquisitions or infrastructure schemes. Up to now expenditures for such
major projects have been included in the ‘investment’ element of the budget voted
annually and, a correspondent tells us, ‘it was supposed that the parliamentarians
received enough [other] information during the debates on the defence budget’.
They could, of course, ask for explanations and justifications for budgeted outlays,
though that is emphatically not the same as having a voice in project choice. They
could ask about any ‘off-budget’ procurement too; and they had to be told about, and
approve, any transfer of inventory items to other states, as happened in the case of
tanks and other items donated to Macedonia.
Change is imminent, but executive authority may continue to prevail. That is because
it is in the capital spending area that the ‘authority versus accountability’ issue has
presented itself in Bulgaria recently – in a way that foreshadows this.
Observers sceptical about the present administration’s commitment to transparency
and accountability in matters of investment spending have drawn attention to two
recent ‘cases’.
•
An infrastructure project involving airfield modernisation, where their
argument is that neither the details of the scheme, nor the contract award, nor
the cost have been subject to appropriate parliamentary scrutiny;
•
The updating and upgrading of Bulgaria’s front-line combat aircraft, where
their argument is (a) that the relative merits of new purchase on the one hand,
MiG-29 modernisation on the other have not been fully or fairly assessed, (b)
that the contractor selection following choice of the latter option was illadvised, and (c) that the value of the business has not been disclosed.
The latter case has the makings of a cause célebre because a contract has been
signed with RSK MiG to refurbish 20 airframes – with the promise of work at Plovdiv
– for which a barely credible 40-year life extension has been claimed. However, a
separate tender will now be required for the equally important ‘capability upgrade’ –
of the planes’ navigation and communications systems – for NATO compatibility.
Senior defence officials do not refute the foregoing facts, but rather dispute the
validity of the challenge per se.
A democratically-elected administration has the
population’s mandate to govern, they say. It is subject to oversight by the people’s
elected representatives, of course; and it must therefore reveal, explain and justify its
decisions. This does not, however, imply an obligation to convey the details of dayto-day business to the National Assembly, still less to seek approval for every action.
•
Even in dealing with ‘big ticket’ capital expenditure programmes, appointed
officials (‘the authorities’) must have considerable freedom of manoeuvre:
they cannot be immediately accountable for everything they do.
•
They must also have the right to withhold information about technical aspects
of contract awards (for security reasons) and about pricing (where
commercial confidentiality may be an issue): that is to say, there are limits to
the degree of transparency that there can be in this area.
In the instances mentioned, they contend, the administration simply exercised its
authority in accordance with this thesis.
The dilemma is plainly presented here. This is not the place to consider how it
should be resolved. Suffice it to say that different countries do approach the problem
differently. Bulgaria might be well advised to consider some other states’ practices
with a view to exploring whether, and if so how, reconciliation of the opposing
positions illustrated in this micro case-study might be sought. One obvious option
would be to require parliamentary ratification of high-value contracts. Another might
be to consider how the ‘national security’ exemption to the public procurement
legislation is applied.
7. Domestic transparency in general: publications
The accountability of government(s) to the people (via elected representatives) is one
of the hallmarks of democracy, every bit as important as, say, free and fair elections.
Transparency is the guarantor of accountability. And publications are transparency’s
lifeblood.
The mixture of metaphors is unfortunate; but the point is clear. A measure of any
country’s commitment to transparency in the conduct of its military affairs is the
number, frequency and quality of the material that it publishes about its defence
effort. As noted earlier in this study, states regarded as exemplars of ‘good practice’
in this connection offer the following.
•
a medium- or long-term defence prospectus – like Portugal’s or the French loi
de programme (five-yearly);
•
an (annual, biennial or triennial) Defence White Paper – or similarly named
document – outlining policy, programmes, current military operations and
peacetime dispositions, organisational matters, personnel and procurement
issues, and the military finances (including the budget and spending
projections);
•
a yearly statement and exposition of the defence budget as such;
•
a regular compendium of defence statistics, incorporating key manpower data
(covering recruitment, retention, retirement), basic matériel and equipment
data (purchases, inventories, disposals), plus information on other matters
(from aircraft accident-rates to welfare provision);
•
public information reports on subjects of special interest – the national
contribution to peace support operations or the country’s progress towards
NATO accession, for example.
As public sector management is taken more seriously than it used to be, and
importance is attached to performance measurement, some defence ministries now
produce also
•
an (annual or biennial) departmental statement of policy and/or programme
management objectives;
•
an (annual or biennial) ‘performance report’ as a counterpart to the last item,
incorporating a number of ‘performance indicators’.
(There might be a basis here for ranking states – for constructing crude transparency
league tables or a ‘transparency index’ – but the idea will not be pursued in this
study. See Chapter Twelve below.)
As noted earlier, Bulgaria has recently produced its definitive post-Cold War Military
Doctrine (amended in February 2002) and National Security Concept texts plus a
more detailed White Paper on Defence. A yearly Report on the State of Defence and
the Armed Forces is now presented to the National Assembly, and published after
parliamentary discussion.
Since 1999 we have also seen a number of glossy
publications about the country’s preparations for NATO accession. These, it must be
said, have been directed more towards winning friends and influencing people
outside the country than to informing Bulgaria’s own electorate. However, public
information has received more emphasis since 2001, witness the production of a
series of leaflets (which, incidentally, assert as well as exemplifying a stronger
commitment to transparency).
All this accords with ‘good practice’. What is not clear is whether all the core policy
documents will be regularly updated, when the next White Paper will appear, and
whether the present administration and its successors will work to improve the
annual Report.
Nor can one be absolutely certain that there will be the same
commitment to improving transparency all round, and the same enthusiasm for public
information efforts, now that Bulgaria’s campaign for inclusion in the ‘second wave’ of
post-Cold War NATO enlargement has succeeded.
The powers-that-be in Sofia probably deserve the benefit of the small doubts on this,
because Bulgaria’s recent progress towards more open government in the security
area has been impressive, especially in the ‘new model’ arrangements on budgeting
for defence. Furthermore it is encouraging that official declarations on openness
were made when the 2003-4 ‘strategic defence review’ was announced.
8. International transparency
Where Bulgaria assuredly has the highest credentials is in its commitment to the
maintenance and improvement of international transparency in military affairs,
especially in its South-East European neighbourhood and with particular reference to
defence budgets and budgeting.
The country participates fully in the general information-exchange arrangements
managed by the OSCE, currently based on the Vienna Document 1999 (VD99).
Within this framework it honours the politically-binding obligation – on all OSCE
member-states – to exchange data on military spending. (Sofia also complies with
UN reporting requirements and voluntarily makes data available for the compilations
produced by the International Institute for Strategic Studies (IISS) and the Stockholm
International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI).)
Bulgaria has gone further than this, however, with regional confidence- and securitybuilding in mind. In 1999/2000 the country launched, with the support of the United
Kingdom, a Budget Transparency Initiative in South-Eastern Europe (under the aegis
of the Stability Pact for the region). To date this effort has yielded a pilot (prototype)
edition of what is envisaged as an annual Yearbook on South-East European
Defence Spending (2002). There should soon be a second enlarged and enriched
edition, plus a complementary Survey of South-East European Defence Budgeting
Systems (provisional title). In addition a small expert cell has been set up in Sofia. It
is hoped that this will evolve into a ‘centre of excellence’ in work on budget
transparency matters – data collation and analysis, the dissemination of information
about ‘good practice’ in the subject-area, and so on – and given some financial
support that hope could be fulfilled (see Chapter Thirteen below).
Conclusion
There is no long-standing culture of transparency and accountability in the conduct of
defence affairs in Bulgaria. In governance generally for the best part of the twentieth
century the Party’s (or the President’s) writ ran – and in military matters, Moscow’s –
and no questions asked. Times change. The democratisation, and domestication, of
national security policy-making did not take place overnight; but the country does
now have what NATO calls ‘democratic-style civil-military relations’ with all that this
implies. There is accountable and transparent government in the national security
area to an extent unimaginable a decade ago.
The mid-1990s legislation on these subjects laid no exact obligations on Bulgarian
governments, so executive discretion still counts for a lot. It has been exercised,
however, in a progressively more ‘open’ style: largely, it has to be said, in the
absence of powerful pressure from elected representatives who over the years have
been docile rather than assertive.
A live ‘accountability versus authority’ debate
testifies to that. Something of a watershed may have been reached in 2002, though,
with the appearance of a (bilingual, Bulgarian and English) Defence White Paper that
is a model of its kind and the introduction of an approach to budgetary procedure and
presentation that in many respects sets the standard for South-Eastern Europe (and
stands comparison with practice in more mature democracies).
On its ‘voice and accountability’ measure of good governance, the World Bank now
places Bulgaria first among the Stability Pact states of the neighbourhood, marginally
ahead of nearby Romania; and we concur in that assessment, so far as our area of
interest is concerned. (See the tabulated TRANSACCT ratings in the Supplement to
Chapter Twelve below.)
We note also the country’s efforts in the cause of
international transparency of defence budgets, also marked by a 2002 milestone, viz.
the appearance from Sofia of the pioneering Yearbook on South-East European
Defence Spending.
CHAPTER SEVEN
____________________________________________________
CROATIA
There is still much ‘transparency-building’ to be done vis-à-vis the conduct of defence
affairs in Croatia, despite recent progress towards greater openness.
1. Culture
For one thing there is an inherited ‘secrecy psychosis’ that has proved remarkably
stubborn, a legacy of the Wars of the Yugoslav Succession, and earlier habits.
Certainly, among the higher political echelons much information remains closely held.
An appreciation that ‘knowledge is power’ clearly prevails over recognition of the
people’s ‘right to know’ about government business. Mid-level officials take their lead
from this, because on the whole they like to do what they think will please their
bosses. According to a well-informed local contact, there is in any event a poor
understanding of the ‘intricacies of the "secrecy vs. right to know" concept’. Nor does
it help that the legislation covering the protection of state and official data and the
limits of secrecy dates from the mid-1990s, when it was enacted in a war-like
environment by a Tudjman regime with little enthusiasm for ‘open’ government. It
does not suit the needs of a modern democratic society.
It is apparent also that the meaning of ‘transparency’ itself is misunderstood. One
source says it is ‘weird’. In the governing coalition, this writer observes, each of the
partners calls for more transparency only in those areas where their counterparts are
in charge. At the same time all information seen as potentially useful in the partypolitical competition is kept secret. This is put down to the fragility of the governing
coalition (2002), a marriage of political convenience rather than a union of the likeminded.
Another explanation is rooted in the post-Tudjman drive to ‘join the
European mainstream’. The thesis here is that admission of lack of transparency will
not serve the country’s interest: candour could be counterproductive.
Reinforcing the impression of confusion is the fact that the appearance of a National
Security Strategy text has been cited as proof of transparency, even though the
document was prepared overnight, by a very small group of people, without the
involvement of any agencies except the Ministry of Defence (MoD), without input
from independent institutions and analysts, and without the knowledge of the media
or the general public.
Symptomatic of attitudes at the MoD is that, when asked by the media to answer
unwelcome questions, what top officials are most concerned about is who leaked the
information that prompted the enquiry. Their interest is not in the issues raised by
the question(s), but in who is to be blamed for the embarrassment. (On the other
hand there are some officials at the Ministry who know very well what transparency
means and what it entails. In fact, one of them has written a substantial monograph
on the subject.)
Still, it is noteworthy that particularly on defence spending much more information is
available than before. Even as recently as 1998/1999 the published Military Budget
comprised just seven figures, including subtotals. Elected representatives now get
more detailed data. Few have the knowledge required to challenge the numbers,
however, or the inclination to ask for explanations and justifications.
The same cannot be said about plans for the future of the Croatian armed forces. As
in matters of ‘strategy’ so here, the MoD marches to the beat of its own drum. Plans
have been made with little reference to other agencies – including the General Staff –
and the information that the media and general public have received has been
‘uncertain and vague’ (according to one correspondent).
2. Policy accountability
It should not be like this.
The constitutional and statutory framework for policy
accountability is in place. The Constitution says that the legislature authorises the
national security strategy and defence strategy. A Defence Law says that the elected
representatives must approve the Armed Forces Development Plan. That would
usually mean a procedure involving the lawmakers establishing guidelines for the
development and execution of key strategic documents, and subsequently discussing
and commenting on the finished texts. The elaboration of the material itself would be
the task of all relevant offices of the executive branch – as, of course, would policy
implementation.
In Croatia, however, the requirement that basic texts are ‘passed’ by the legislature
(Art. 80 of the Constitution) has led to a situation where the legislature appears – with
the MoD’s active connivance and support – to have wrested the initiative from the
executive branch, with potentially deleterious consequences for both policy
formulation and execution.
The Croatian parliament (Hrvatski Sabor) has a clear constitutional duty to exercise
legislative oversight of the national security and defence structures. That is not in
dispute. The point is that it risks compromising itself in that role if it regularly defers
to the defence ministry yet declines to take into account what other concerned actors
in government have to say on matters at issue. On top of that, democratic oversight
is mentioned in the Constitution too. Thus the Sabor is emphatically not alone in
having responsibilities where accountability is concerned. Players out of government
– interest-groups, NGOs and other institutions of ‘civil society’ – also have a voice.
Part of the problem is that in Croatia the distribution of roles and responsibilities in
defence governance – on both policy and financial aspects – is complex; and, some
would say, not entirely rational. The result is ‘improvisations’ (in one writer’s term). A
summary of the procedure for general resource allocation is instructive here:
•
The Sabor passes the state budget, (Art. 80., RoC Constitution).
•
The government drafts and proposes this submission (Art. 112., RoC
Constitution).
•
The military budget is part of the state budget – as are the intelligence
services’ budgets – and is prepared by the MoD, as the department
responsible for the planning, organisation and execution of defence finances
(Art. 10., Defence Law).
•
The General Staff ‘participates’ in these preparations (Art. 11., Defence Law).
More or less the same applies to decision-making on the shape, size, and equipment
of the Services, including weapons acquisition plus infrastructure and equipment
modernization generally.
•
The General Staff prepares proposals for the development, acquisition and
modernization of the armed forces (Art. 11., Defence Law).
•
The
MoD
plans
and
organises
‘the
development,
acquisition
and
modernization…’ and, most important, produces the Armed Forces Long
Term Development Plan (LTDP) for the government (Art. 10., Defence Law).
•
The government submits the LTDP to the legislature (Art. 8., Defence Law).
•
The Sabor passes the Plan (Art. 6., Defence Law).
The problem is that there is distrust among the various actors, whose interests are
not invariably aligned, while one – the President of the Republic of Croatia – is ‘out of
the loop’ altogether.
This last is not a trivial matter. Constraining presidential power was no doubt one
reason for Croatia’s post-Tudjman reforms. Denying a directly-elected Head of State
any substantive role in the sphere of foreign affairs, security and defence is,
however, unwise. Whether one uses ‘separation of powers’ or ‘division of labour’
arguments – or simply notes the merits of ‘checks and balances’ – the office should
count for something. The Romanians understand this. They have ‘two executives’
problems sometimes, to be sure; but they know that an active President represents a
safeguard against Prime Ministerial (or parliamentary) excesses and vice versa.
The top office should certainly count for something in Croatian politics, not least
because the President is the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces and bears
the constitutional responsibility for the country’s defence and its territorial integrity. In
discharging both duties the Head of State depends on the competence and
capabilities of the Armed Forces. These in turn depend on the military budget – its
adequacy and its appropriateness – and on the priorities enshrined in the Armed
Forces’ LTDP. It is absurd, therefore, that the C-in-C should have only a marginal
voice in policy-making and planning, programming and budgeting.
The central element in the Sabor’s legislative oversight machinery is its Internal
Policy and National Security Committee. This is an all-party committee of partynominated members, its composition reflecting that of the ‘whole house’.
(The
calculations usually result in small parties not being represented, unless they ‘trade’
places or do a deal to secure some influence.) The Committee meets once or twice
monthly when parliament is sitting (from mid-January to mid-July, and from midSeptember to mid-December).
The present Committee has 12 members (2002): Chair, Deputy Chair, and 10
ordinary members, drawn from nine parties. It also has a secretary. The governing
coalition provides seven members, the opposition five.
The Chair is from the
governing coalition, specifically from the HSLS (Croatian Social Liberal Party). This
faction has a Defence Minister and very likely the Head of the Government's Council
for National Security as well. Though not the strongest party in the coalition it is
therefore particularly influential on security and defence matters, exacerbating
Croatia’s endemic ‘clash of institutions’ problem.
The Committee can, and does, ‘send for people and papers’ in order to perform its
oversight function. It can, and does, summon high-level military commanders, chiefs
of the intelligence services, or any other person connected with the security and
defence of the country to testify in front of the Committee members. It can also ask
state agencies and ministries to provide whatever data and information may be
necessary for the efficient conduct of its business. (According to the Constitution and
Laws, individuals called must appear and give evidence. They do. We are not
aware of any case were someone was forcefully brought to testify.) The problem is
that, because of the weighting of the membership, the ruling party or parties can
decisively influence what the Committee enquires about, how it conducts business,
and the conclusions that it reaches.
This devalues somewhat our finding that, in its dealings with the Sabor and generally
the present defence leadership (2002) acknowledges and respects the obligation to
account for what it does and does more or less all that it is required to do in this
respect.
If there is an ‘accountability deficit’ it is attributable to the familiar
phenomenon: elected representatives who, generally speaking, are not demanding
interlocutors. Ministers can, a source tells us, ‘make sure that every proposition they
make will pass through the Parliament without many disturbances’.
This situation also explains why the legislature – and the defence oversight
committee especially – make less use than they could of their right to access
‘outside’ advice. It also explains why the committee showed little interest in the idea
of establishing an Armed Forces/Intelligence Services Liaison Office when this idea
was put forward recently (by the independent team that produced a comprehensive
Study on National Security for the government’s ‘Croatia in the 21st Century’ project).
Presumably the deputies failed to see how such a body might help them in their dayto-day work. (This is another place where Croatia might find Romania’s experience
instructive.)
On the other hand the legislature can make life difficult for, or embarrass, the
executive in some areas.
Under the law governing the intelligence services, for
example, a chief – put in post by the President and Prime Minister – can, in principle,
be relieved of his duties by the Sabor; and we understand there are other fields in
which the lawmakers may trespass on territory where, arguably, the executive’s writ
should run.
(This is another place, therefore, where we encounter the classic
‘authority versus accountability’ issue that was a recurring theme in our examination
of policy and practice in Bulgaria.)
3. Financial Accountability
The essential features of Croatian practice in budgeting for defence were set out in
the preceding section.
Exactly how, though, is the government-in-office held to
account for what it spends?
The short answer is simple (and self-evident): by being required to explain and
defend its budget before the Sabor as part of the procedure outlined; and by being
required to deliver accounts of past spending to the legislature after the end of each
fiscal year (which, in principle, the elected representatives can reject).
The authorities are not required to engage the lawmakers in dialogue in the course of
in-house preparation of their bid for funds; and it is not clear that they would be able
to do so even if they wished to because Croatia does not yet have in place a
coherent planning, programming and budgeting system. It has tried to introduce one,
but implementation has been ‘retarded’ (sources say).
The legislators are, though, able to scrutinise the military budget in detail when it
does get to them.
If they do not agree with a specific item or section of the
submission it will be changed.
Every deputy has the right to propose amendments
to the budget. Every such amendment is voted on after the Minister has had an
opportunity to explain his position on it. There is, however, less to this than meets
the eye. The right is used sparingly. And no Minister has yet offered to resign rather
than see one of his line-items altered (or axed). ‘This is one of the reasons why, for
instance, soldier’s salaries have not been raised since 1995’, a military contact tells
us, ‘even though in the meantime salaries in the public service generally have gone
up by more than 50 per cent.’
The military budget receives particular attention, of course, from the specialist
security-sector oversight committee (see previous section). It also comes under the
scrutiny of the Sabor’s Committee for Finance and Budget whose members also are
entitled to ask for explanations and justifications of defence expenditure proposals
(as for all the other bids they look at). This Committee comprises parliamentarians,
representative of the ‘whole house’, plus external members (from the trade unions,
the employers’ association and scientific institutions). Like the specialist committee,
however, these people lack the security- and defence-related knowledge to scrutinise
programmes searchingly even if they had the will to do so.
All parliamentary committees have the same rights and authorities, so the Committee
for Finance and Budget too can ‘send for people and papers’; and ministers, officials
and officers do attend to give evidence (and explain their financial stewardship).
The main instrument of ex post accountability in Croatia is the State Audit Office,
which must report to the legislature at least once a year. It is concerned – in the
defence field as elsewhere – with the legality and propriety of spending, first and
foremost. Its website says that its examinations cover ‘the legality and efficiency of
spending of public funds’; but value-for-money inquiries are not its strength. (Unlike
the websites of Bosnia-Herzegovina’s auditors, the Croatian one does not carry
recent reports. There are, therefore, no sharp observations on military spending to
record and no fascinating trivia to share.)
How effective is the Office? It depends what you mean by ‘effective’. On the one
hand, correspondents tell us that it is one of the better-performing state agencies,
that it has the requisite powers for its job (which it does conscientiously), that its
reports appear as and when they should, and that the annual report is debated at
some length. On the other hand, that may be the end of the matter. The bureau is not
a judicial body. It cannot itself prosecute wrongdoers. The police and the courts
could, but generally do not.
Our own headline observations on ‘financial accountability’ in Croatia are the
following:
•
Governments acknowledge and observe their democratic duty to reveal,
explain and justify what they spend for military purposes, but they do very
little more than they have to do.
They are not obviously pro-active in
promoting dialogue between the MoD and the armed forces on the one hand,
the legislature, interest-groups and ‘civil society’ institutions generally on the
other.
•
The country’s elected representatives fulfil their oversight function in relation
to the military budget, but largely in pro forma fashion. They are circumspect
about holding the executive to account. Many deputies appear either unable
or unwilling to subject spending bids to in-depth scrutiny; and the defence
ministry, the General Staff and the government as a whole take advantage of
that.
The bottom-line is that the legislative branch tends to give the impression that it is
using its oversight powers actively and decisively; but more often than not it simply
acquiesces in what government – and particularly the MoD – proposes.
It can,
though, get its way when it puts its mind to it (as the ‘soldiers pay’ issue would
appear to show).
4. Transparency in policy-making and planning
The information on defence policy-making and planning that the executive branch is
constitutionally or legally obliged to make available to the legislature (and in some
cases the public) – leaving aside the State Budget – includes the National Security
Strategy, the country’s Defence Strategy, The Defence Plan, The Armed Forces
Long-Term Development Plan, and an Annual Report on the Armed Forces
Readiness.
All of the above have appeared – or appear as required – in Croatia. They have not,
though, been widely disseminated.
(The MoD’s website has been ‘under
construction’ for at least two years now.)
Many students of public administration would say that transparency of process is a
characteristic of good governance as well as transparency of policy outcomes.
Whether Croatia earns marks for ‘good practice’ in this respect is a matter of dispute.
The existence of an enduring secretiveness in security-sector affairs, and their use
as an arena for party politics were noted in the opening lines of this essay.
Furthermore, executive authority is claimed, and conceded, across large areas of
military business.
Yet during the most recent revisions of core policy documents and the preparation of
the most recent force structure proposals for the country’s armed forces there was an
abundance of information (authoritative and not-so-authoritative). ‘Even to the point
that it was misleading for the general public’, a correspondent tells us, ‘since almost
every institution had its own version of the debates’. Also academics, analysts and
interest-groups (including minority spokespersons) were ‘consulted’; though more,
we understand, as a courtesy – or goodwill gesture – on the part of the authorities
than for the sake of substantive input.
Parliamentary discussion was regarded
similarly, we understand.
Detailed material about force structure, force levels, equipment and deployment –
made available routinely, year in year out, in regular publications or elsewhere –
represents a greater contribution to transparency, of course, and is a sine qua non
for well-informed policy discourse in any country’s security community and generally.
In Croatia, some is forthcoming – but not a lot. (See s.7 below.)
At the root of the problem is the ‘clash of institutions’ observed earlier. The less
information shared, the less advantage conceded to other agencies.
5. Transparency in programming and budgeting
There are no explicit constitutional or legal prescriptions about exactly what figures
on past outlays, current expenditure, and budgeted spending for defence the
Croatian government must make available to the legislature and to the public.
However, the State Budget – incorporating the Military Budget (which, by the way,
excludes military pensions) – is routinely published in the widely-available Official
Bulletin (Narodne novine). That is a legal obligation.
Moreover, in 2001, when the defence ministry was engaged in preparation of its
budget request for 2002, there was parliamentary, media, and popular debate about
alternatives and possible ‘adjustments’ to existing resource allocations based on the
actual figures under consideration.
When the department’s submission was
finalised, further discussion followed about both the overall scale of (intended)
spending and about the envisaged pattern of spending – that is to say, about
defence’s place in national priorities and about defence priorities per se.
This was possible because, when presented to elected representatives for approval,
the military budget is forwarded in a format that makes it possible to see the
distribution of requested funds among resource categories (inputs) and also among
functions (or outputs). There is, however, nothing like the detail available in, for
example, Bulgaria. That is partly because Croatia does not yet have a coherent
planning, programming and budgeting system in place. The country has tried to
install procedures based on American practice, without success. It is reportedly trying
now to devise a satisfactory ‘indigenous’ system.
Nor do the authorities in Croatia provide material to inform budget-related discussion
about the impact of defence spending on the domestic economy and the international
accounts.
‘This area
is being fogged by the different political interests of the
different political parties’, according to a local observer, ‘...every party tends to paint
the picture as it suits to the leadership of the party’.
Officially there is no such ‘fog’ to obscure sources of funds for the Croatian military.
There is no ‘off-budget’ funding (we are told). Nor do the armed forces benefit from
income produced by their own commercial activities. (They did in the past. For
instance a special engineering unit built roads, and the revenue accrued to the MoD.)
6. Equipment acquisition
Arrangements and practices to provide for openness about expenditure on the
procurement of military equipment and infrastructure in South-Eastern Europe are of
special interest.
In Croatia the authorities are not explicitly required to inform the legislature or the
media or the public-at-large about imminent asset acquisition choices. Executive
authority prevails as regards options under consideration, tendering arrangements,
contractor selection, bid outcomes, contract terms (including ‘offset’ obligations), renegotiation provisions, and so on. Recent experience shows, however, that all these
aspects are in fact scrutinised at some stage in the Sabor, in the print and broadcast
media, and in discussion among analysts. ‘On the other hand’, a source writes, ‘this
is the part of the defence system operations that is still expected to be developed,
mostly because of the fact that acquisitions were so rare in the past that this is
almost “terra incognita” for the defence institutions.’ (Some 70-75 per cent of recent
Croatian defence spending has gone on personnel costs, and most of the rest on
operating expenses.)
Formally, military investment is governed by a Law on the
Production,
Refurbishment and Transfer of Arms and Military Equipment. This should apply not
only to ‘regular’ procurement but also to equipment or matériel provided by allies,
including hand-me-down items provided at low or no cost. It should also, in principle,
regulate the ‘transfer’ of arms or supplies to, say, a contiguous or near neighbour
(other than in the normal way of trade, of course). Whether all such business is
indeed conducted ‘by the book’ is an open question. According to a correspondent,
‘under the previous administration, there were numerous misbehaviours and
mismanagements of such operations: today it is not the case any more’.
Not
everyone would be prepared to take that categorical assurance on trust, especially
with organisations like the American private enterprise MPRI still active in the
country.
7. Domestic transparency in general: regular publications
Because of the direct way in which they serve transparency, we attach the highest
importance to official defence publications, especially material issued regularly.
On this count Croatia would not win any ‘good practice’ awards.
Judges would
acknowledge the value of the core documents cited earlier; and they would note that
the MoD’s budget and accounts are published (which is more or less universal
practice). However, they would also register that the country is still agonising over
the production of a one-off Defence White Paper. They would observe too that it
issues neither a regular medium- or long-term defence prospectus (like France’s fiveyearly lois de programme, for instance); nor an annual or biennial statement of policy
and/or programme management objectives; nor a related ‘performance report’ with
fashionable ‘performance indicators’ and suchlike; nor a regular volume of defence
statistics, incorporating key manpower data (recruitment, retention, retirement),
matériel and equipment data (purchases, inventories, disposals), plus information on
other matters (from aircraft accident-rates to welfare provision).
Presumably, though the country will be changing this ’information-lite’ strategy in the
not-too-distant future. Since 2002 Croatia has been taking part in the process of
annual scrutiny of all its defence arrangements that constitutes NATO’s Membership
Action Plan (MAP) procedure. If Zagreb wants to ‘look good for NATO’ it will have to
pay a lot of attention to this matter.
8. International transparency
The Croatian record in the area of international transparency is much better, so far as
we can gather.
•
The country has participated fully in the information-exchange arrangements
– conceived as a confidence- and security-building measure – that the OSCE
has run in the last several years, latterly on the basis of the so-called Vienna
Document 1999 (VD99). In particular, Croatia has honoured the politicallybinding obligation – applicable to all OSCE member-states – to exchange,
with other governments, standardised data on military expenditures.
•
It has gone further of late, submitting its VD99 figures for inclusion in the
Yearbook on South-East European Defence Spending (pilot edition, 2002)
produced under the aegis of the Stability Pact for South-East Europe (by a
small team in Sofia). This is significant because it places the material in the
public domain.
•
In addition, so far as we are aware, the country has fulfilled all its
commitments under the terms of the Dayton accords.
It was also
instrumental post-Dayton in establishing, with international support, a
Regional Arms Control Verification and Implementation Assistance Centre
(RACVIAC). This facility is located in premises on the outskirts of Zagreb.
That is a commendable record.
Moreover, once mutual co-operation among
domestic security and defence institutions improves, with an end to one or two turf
battles, it could well improve. When this happens, a correspondent thinks, ‘ one of
the side effects will be better and more informative co-operation with other countries
and international organisations’.
That said, the provisos in the preceding paragraph – ‘so far as we can gather’ and ‘so
far as we are aware’ – are entered advisedly.
There is a long history of non-
transparent activity in the conduct of Croatian security affairs: from support received
from the United States and others in the mid-1990s to support given to the Croat
element in the forces of the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina at the same time
(and since); from the unpublicised help provided to NATO in the conduct of
operations in Kosovo and elsewhere to the assistance provided by various US
organisations – including the still-active, and locally-unaccountable, MPRI – after
independence. One suspects that much activity continues that is sheltered from
public gaze.
Conclusion
Croatia has the best neckties in Europe, but among the worst arrangements for
transparency and accountability in defence affairs.
This is partly a ‘legacy’ matter: the mores of the old socialist era, and the Tudjman
years; the aftermath of war(s), which includes some outstanding border issues; the
mentality of a military high command not only trained under authoritarian regimes but
also disposed to regard their country as a putative ‘medium-power’ of the western
Balkans. It is also, however, partly to do with the abrasive politics of post-Tudjman
Zagreb and the ‘clash of institutions’ that has been observed. Nor have external
influences been consistently on the side of ‘democratic-style civil-military relations’
(as the 1995 Study on NATO Enlargement puts it).
The aspiration for membership of NATO (and the EU) is, however, steadily forcing
Croatia towards more institutionalised transparency and accountability. There may
be big changes in the next two or three years.
CHAPTER EIGHT
____________________________________________________
MACEDONIA (FYROM)
That the Former Yugoslav or Macedonia (hereafter, Macedonia) was until just over a
decade ago part of the ‘old’ Yugoslavia is not irrelevant to the matters that interest
us. Accountability and transparency in the conduct of security-sector affairs were
never features of the pre-1991 state: and it is not surprising that, in the conditions
that prevailed through the mid-1990s, Macedonia’s post-independence governments
did not attach particularly high importance to them either. When circumstances did
seem propitious for attention to reforms, towards the end of the decade – in order to
enhance the country’s Euro-integration prospects rather than in response to any
deep democratic impulse, it has to be said – two developments distracted would-be
reformers. The first was the disturbing spillover from the 1999 Kosovo crisis and
conflict. The second was the exacerbation of Macedonia’s own ‘double minorities’
problem that followed, bringing the country to the brink of civil war in 2001. As that
emergency dragged on, though, the powers-that-be realised that excessive secrecy
would be counter-productive.
More important, since the crisis subsided, and
especially since the September 2002 election, interest in taking up the reform agenda
appears to have returned.
1. Culture
Thus, while there is no well-rooted tradition of open and accountable government
here and recent years have not offered the ideal atmosphere for trying to establish
one, steps have been taken on ‘the road to transparency’ – or rather several steps
forward in the second half of the 1990s (pre-Kosovo), a few steps back thereafter,
and resumption of progress since mid-2001 which observers think will now be
sustained. Perhaps the most important development is that democratic accountability
is nowadays a solid aspiration where once it was an alien conception.
How far along the road Macedonia has travelled is harder to gauge. What progress
has been made in turning aspiration into actuality is a tough call too. Nor is this just a
problem for ‘outside’ observers. One gets mixed messages from Macedonian voices
also.
On transparency, for example, a Skopje journalist tells us that the Macedonian
Ministry of Defence (MoD) and the Army of the Republic of Macedonia (ARM) ‘are
considered transparent and cooperative in providing information about defence and
defence-related matters’. A former MoD official disputes this. The authorities give
very little away and their statements are typically ‘politicised’; media relations depend
heavily on personal relations (the uncle or nephew who works at the ministry and will
provide this or that information); and the main reason senior figures co-operate with
the media is because it’s better to have journalists as friends than as enemies.
Another ex-bureaucrat says that the Macedonian authorities are in fact more open
and transparent vis à vis international audiences than they are in dealing with their
own populace.
On accountability, a parliamentarian who was a journalist before entering politics
comments ruefully that it is easier to get ‘secret’ information as a reporter than as an
elected representative. One source says that the legislature has a totally insignificant
role in holding governments accountable. In contrast, a serving official believes that
official procedures in this respect – in the MoD and elsewhere – meet ‘democratic
standards’ fully.
In view of the foregoing one has to say that present-day Macedonia is a country of
contradictions and uncertainties, in our area of interest as in many others.
2. Policy accountability
The regulations are in place requiring that governments must account for what they
do in making their defence dispositions. The activities of the MoD, and by extension
of the ARM, are subject to the direction of the President – in his capacity as Supreme
Commander of the Armed Forces – plus the National Security Council; and of the
Government, acting with the consent of Parliament.
This is laid down in the
Constitution and in the Defence Law. A new complementary measure – the ARM
Service Law – went on the statute book in July 2002.
For the record, the distribution of roles and responsibilities in the defence policymaking and planning and funding area are as follows.
•
The President approves the Republic’s strategy and defence plan, decides on
states of readiness (and mobilisation), authorises the ‘organisation and
formation structure’ of the Army, and approves documents on force
development and so on. The President is also Chairman of the National
Security Council of the Republic of Macedonia.
•
The National Security Council considers all defence- and security-related
issues of the Republic of Macedonia and makes recommendations to the
Parliament and to the Government.
According to Article 86 of the
Constitution, the council is composed of the President of the Republic, the
President of the Assembly, the Prime Minister, the ‘Ministers heading the
bodies of state administration in the fields of security, defence and foreign
affairs’ and three members appointed by the President of the Republic.
•
The Ministry of Defence assesses threats and risks to the nation’s security
and develops the country’s military strategy. It is also responsible for the
defence organisation, the training and readiness of the Armed Forces, their
equipment and support. The MoD prepares the defence budget.
•
The Government of the country formally proposes the defence plan, and
submits the defence budget (within the state budget).
•
The Parliament of the Republic of Macedonia (or the Assembly) oversees the
executive branch, with regard to defence and across-the-board.
It also
approves the military budget (exercising ‘the power of the purse’). It is also
empowered to decide when there is a threat of war, and to declare war (and
peace). Its oversight of the security sector is entrusted to an Interior Policy
and Defence Committee (but see below).
Under the terms of the resolution of the 2001 crisis in the country, there are a few
hundred foreign troops in Macedonia currently (plus high officials – and aircraft cabinloads of staff and hangers-on – from several international organisations). There are
thus some ‘outside’ parties with a voice in security and defence decision-making in
the country also (as in Bosnia and Herzegovina). They are present for the purpose
of conflict prevention and as a stabilising influence in the aftermath of violence and
while Macedonians apply their new formula for national governance on the basis of
the August 2001 Framework Agreement (the Ohrid Agreement) and following the
September 2002 election. The fundamental rationale for the outsiders’ presence,
however, is to safeguard democracy. It is ironic, therefore, that these ‘parties’ are
locally accountable to nobody.
Not so the ARM and the ‘home’ defence ministry. These are watched over by the
National Security Council and by the Assembly’s Committee for Internal Policy and
Defence (CIPD), two bodies with similar monitoring functions.
Focusing on the CIPD, this 8-strong commission certainly appears active, has
extensive oversight powers and could therefore be a powerful tool of accountability.
In practice, it is not. Regarding its activity, fortnightly meetings are touted as a norm.
However, a ‘usually reliable witness’ tells us that it is not unusual for meetings to be
cancelled because only 3 members turn up. Regarding its exercise of powers, lack
of knowledge – and, evidently, lack of interest – mean that it does not live up to its
potential. These elected representatives have ‘the right to know’ but apparently do
not want to know. In the period leading up to the September 2002 ballot members
from the ruling party were not disposed to make life difficult for the administration.
Opposition members kept quiet, one informant told us, because then they could
make no mistakes: the governing party almost certainly would, somewhere along the
line, so that political advantage – and maybe electoral benefit – would go to those
who kept their own counsel. (The September 2002 voting suggests this may have
been a correct reading of the situation.)
There are two effects. First, the CIPD is not taken seriously. It is commonplace, for
example, for high office-holders summoned to testify before it to send a (junior)
representative rather than appear themselves. Secondly, by default security matters
are dealt with primarily by the legislature in general assembly.
Parliamentary
Questions – for which each minister should appear monthly – are the favourite forum
for routinely holding the government to account. (Major legislation and the approval
of the budget are matters for the ‘whole house’ anyway.) In this forum, sources say,
ministers are mostly rather open, and have been noticeably more forthcoming since
the 2001 emergency. When the ARM and the Albanian ‘rebels’ were at each others’
throats, the government wisely recognised the need to keep elected representatives
fully informed of developments.
That is a plus-point, certainly. Overall, though, as suggested earlier, the foregoing is
not an account of award-winning legislative oversight.
3. Financial Accountability
The discipline is stricter in the matter of Macedonian governments accounting for
what they spend.
The constitutional and legislative bases of the Assembly’s ‘power of the purse’ are
clear (see supporting material); and in financial matters, a source says, ‘the
government is very transparent’ (see s. 5 below). It must – and does – reveal,
explain and justify what it proposes to do with its taxpayers’ (and aid donors’) money.
Legislative oversight is more rigorous, too, perhaps because it is the responsibility of
an all-party Parliamentary Budget Committee. It has to be exercised, however, within
an absurdly compressed timescale: the Assembly has the executive’s material for
around two weeks, rarely more. Thus there is hardly any line-item scrutiny – of the
MoD’s submission or any other – though the legislature has the right to call for
‘adjustments’ to the administration’s proposals.
As for ex post accountability, there is an independent Audit Office (set up in the later
1990s). However, one experienced oversight committee member interviewed for our
inquiry appeared unaware of the bureau’s existence. Others in Skopje to whom we
spoke were under the impression that rather than operating as a spending watchdog
for the Assembly (and society-at-large) ’they work for the government’.
Not
surprisingly, therefore, we were told that if elected representatives felt that an area of
spending required in-depth scrutiny their preferred course of action would be to set
up their own ad hoc committee to investigate.
Needless to say, this story does nothing for one’s confidence that Macedonia is
serious about exposing and eradicating fraud, waste and mismanagement in the
defence organisation (or anywhere else for that matter). On the other hand there
was one celebrated ‘affair’ in August 2002 – involving former defence minister Ljuben
Paunovski – and the post-September 2002 coalition government, under Prime
Minister Crvenkovski, seems to be in earnest about reform.
4. Transparency in policy-making and planning
Skopje may also be getting serious again about transparency in security and defence
affairs.
As noted earlier, there was a burst of enthusiasm for improving the availability of
information, about both policy and provision, in the second half of the 1990s. The
tangible results were the production of the country’s first Defence White Paper and
the creation of the defence ministry’s website.
In terms of both content and
presentation each was a model of its kind: the White Paper (1998) a comprehensive
and ‘reader friendly’ elucidation of policy and organisation, incorporating crystal-clear
presentation of budgetary data (with spending projections to the mid-2000s); the
website a well-constructed and ‘user-friendly’ source of essential information, with an
online version of the full White Paper (among many other things). Both available in
English also, by the way.
For the next few years the official attitude to public information about defence, and
democratic accountability, was less enlightened. Two obvious indications: there was
no follow-on White Paper, not even the suggestion that there might be one; and in
2002 the website was as it had been in 1999, with the exception of one or two new or
updated biographical notes plus the leadership’s latest platitude-laden public
speeches.
This should change, but a possible obstacle is that MoD material is rigorously
categorised now. There are four sorts of information, we understand:
•
that which is disseminated by the ministry on its own initiative;
•
that which can be placed in the public domain on a request of the Assembly;
•
that which elected representatives can see, on request, but which cannot be
made public;
•
that which the government will not let anyone see, outside official circles.
The very taxonomy bears the mark of an old-style apparatchik’s hand (and mind).
More important, there were indications pre-September 2002 of not only fewer and
fewer up-to-date facts and figures finding their way to the top category but also of
fewer and fewer rising to the ‘releasable, if we’re pushed’ level. One of the reasons
for expecting improvement is that the post-election coalition government has been
advised by one of the shrewdest observers of Macedonia’s defence politics who
believes the country needs amended legislation that contains substantial rather than
vague declaratory norms concerning policy-making and decision-making.
For the time being, though, in the security and defence field what the Macedonian
authorities make public remains what they are statutorily obliged to publish – but no
more than that. The solitary exception we would make to this assessment concerns
material produced, mainly for international consumption, in support of Macedonia’s
NATO membership candidacy. To the extent that this finds its way to the home
market it represents a collateral benefit to domestic transparency.
Similarly, when it comes to engaging elected representatives, interest groups and
other ‘civil society’ organisations in deliberations during the policy-making process,
the official disposition is still to do that only when necessary rather than whenever it
might be desirable or useful. There are reasons for expecting this to change too,
however, on a couple of counts. In the first place, during 2002 a policy development
exercise was conducted under the aegis of the Presidency. A broad spectrum of
domestic interests, and external expertise, was drawn into this venture. This Process
2002 work was conceived as a contribution to a post-2001, post-Ohrid ‘healing
process’ and somehow survived the perturbations of Macedonian politics. In the
second place, the current (2003) coalition government of Crvenkovski’s Social
Democrats and Albanians led by reformed rebel Ali Ahmetic is a power-sharing setup: it will have to engage in broad consensus-building to survive, especially in the
security domain.
Will that be possible? One encouraging note is that sources say that material about
force structure, force levels, equipment and deployment is available to inform
discourse on the country’s defence futures. A correspondent writes:
Due to reforms in the ARM towards the NATO structures and standards,
information about the force structure is made available ...with every new
structure formed. Similar is the case with information about equipment...[so
that] the public is well informed about the subject. As an example, this year
[2002] the MoD announced the formation of several Commands...; an Air
Force Special Operations Force with details about the force; and the
structure, force level, equipment and deployment of the Army Special Forces,
the Counter-Terrorist Brigade etc.
That is fine.
It has to be said, though, that ‘transparency in policy-making and
planning’ would have been better served if outline information had been released
earlier – about alternative force configurations under consideration, for example.
5. Transparency in programming and budgeting
Turning to economics, there are very few democracies – even adolescent,
democracies – in which governments get wide freedom to choose how much or little
they will tell their taxpayers’ representatives about the public finances, including how
much is being spent – or is to be spent – for military purposes. The Republic of
Macedonia is no exception. The law says that the government must give details of
every proposed expenditure above 2500 Euros.
The figures of the defence budget are publicly available. The sums encompass all
the state’s expenditures for military purposes. The value of the military assistance the
country was expecting to receive in the relevant year(s) – in cash or kind – is not
recorded, however.
For Macedonia, the conditions in which budgeting for defence was done in 2001, for
2002, were obviously highly unusual (to put it mildly). Provision was made for a
tempo of ARM operations which in the event was not necessary, as well as for
equipment acquisitions that could be rescheduled. Hence appropriations were ‘rebalanced’ early in the budget-year.
The Assembly, of course, approved both the original MoD submission and the ‘rebalanced’ bid. The question of interest for the purposes of this part of our inquiry is:
Did the legislature get – or would it have got in a normal year – sufficient information,
explanation and justification to know what it was doing?
On this, correspondents offer what looks like conflicting testimony. One says that the
Macedonian MoD presents its budget – to the government and the Assembly – ‘in
detailed form considering every issue’. Another says that usually ‘the budget is just
three pages’. Formally, it is the short form that the legislature sees. This puts Skopje
in the same league as Belgrade in terms of abbreviated submissions to the people’s
representatives. ‘In detailed form considering every issue’ would imply a document
running to 100-150 pages (the Romanian ball-park) or even up to 400 pages (what
the Bulgarian MoD offers).
No unique number denotes ‘good practice’: some countries’ defence accounting is
more detailed than others’; and some countries have more ‘zeroes’ to accommodate
than others. Still, the figure has got to be more than a surely-inadequate 3 (and is
almost certainly less than a probably-indigestible 400). What Macedonia does in this
context is manifestly not up to standard.
So far as material complementary to the main budget submission is concerned – on
the likely socio-economic impact of current and planned military spending, for
instance – the Macedonian legislators and society are better served, we are told.
The country is shrinking both the MoD and the ARM. Some effort has been made to
elucidate the economics of contraction.
6. Equipment acquisition
At least transparency about capital spending for defence purposes – on equipment,
matériel or infrastructure – is assured, by the general conditions for public
procurement that apply in Macedonia. The government has to use a public tender
procedure for every purchase over 2500 Euros.
The regulations about public tender preclude secrecy about any aspect of a project:
from the criteria that will be applied in contractor selection to the payment method to
be used for settling the bills, from the details of the winning bid to the value and terms
of the eventual contract. Moreover, there are rules about project management. All
changes in information provided in the tender process must be notified and made
public, an obligation which in theory ensures that familiar phenomena like cost
escalation and in-service date slippage do come to light.
The executive organises tenders and manages projects.
The legislature has to
approve major equipment acquisitions and construction schemes and must be kept
informed about progress on projects-in-the-pipeline.
It must also be advised of
equipment or supplies provided under military assistance arrangements by allies (or
other sympathisers), including hand-me-down items provided at low or no cost. The
same applies to services, e.g. the training of Special Forces provided by Switzerland
and Turkey in 2002.
7.
Domestic transparency in general: regular publications
Because of the direct way in which they serve transparency we attach great
significance to defence publications, especially material a government issues
regularly.
In Macedonia there appears – at least to the outside observer – to be relatively little
in the latter category. We know about the annual publication by the MoD of its
budget, with some explanatory addenda. There is not much else, though, unless you
count the domestic distribution of material produced for NATO’s benefit in connection
with the Membership Action Plan (MAP) procedure, e.g. an Annual National
Programme (ANP), prepared in the English language.
However, our Skopje journalist (mentioned earlier) says that ‘the MoD and ARM
make available to the media...key manpower data (covering recruitment, retention,
retirement), matériel and equipment data (detailing purchases, inventories,
disposals), plus information on other matters’. Under the last heading are ‘reports on
subjects of special interest [like] progress towards NATO accession’.
We are
reminded also that the government’s regular Official Bulletin publishes, along with
everything else, ‘decisions, laws and related material’ to do with defence. Also, there
is a ‘popular’ periodical – The Word of the Army.
As for ‘one-off’ or occasional publications, these are not very plentiful either.
Documents exist on Defence Strategy and Military Doctrine; but, as already noted,
there has only been one Macedonian Defence White Paper (published 1998). If it
could replicate that 1998 text, and commit itself to, say, annual or biennial
publication, the Macedonian MoD would do the cause of transparency a considerable
service. The post-September 2002 administration may do that at some point.
8. International transparency
The message of the preceding sections is that Macedonia has been less serious than
it could be, less serious than it probably ought to be, and certainly less serious than it
used to be, about domestic transparency in defence; but change may be imminent.
To date, though, many defence-watchers in Skopje think that the Macedonian
authorities have been far more transparent and open in international communication
with Euro-Atlantic partners than with their own citizens.
On the international dimension the country’s MAP-ANP submissions – to NATO
Headquarters and member-states – have been mentioned already, as has the fact
that the availability of summaries within Macedonia represents a ‘collateral benefit’ to
domestic transparency. Other points to be noted under this heading are that the
country
•
participates in the OSCE-managed information-exchange based on the
Vienna Document 1999 (VD99), honouring the politically-binding obligation on
members to exchange data on military expenditure, at least among
governments;
•
has been associated with the Stability Pact-sponsored operation that has
published a prototype Yearbook on South-East European Defence Spending
based on VD99 submissions, and therefore placed these data in the public
domain.
These involvements signal that Skopje is serious about international transparency as
a regional (and sub-regional) confidence- and security-building measure.
In addition, we may note for the record that the country also sends budgetary data to
the international financial institutions – notably the IMF and the World Bank – for
more mundane reasons.
Conclusion
Throughout South-Eastern Europe there is a ‘moving targets’ problem in seeking to
characterise transparency and accountability arrangements in defence. This applies
particularly in the case of Macedonia, where a generally responsible President and
Prime Minister are striving to put the country together again after the damage done in
the 2001 crisis (with the EU’s help).
We can hope for more transparency, because power-sharing probably requires it,
and ‘ healing’ certainly does (see section 4). In any event there are the expectations
and requirements of the Euro-Atlantic organisations to be met. Accountability may
be further institutionalised and consolidated in the years ahead too, if progressive
forces have their way and external pressure continues. On the other hand the postOhrid political rehabilitation remains ‘work in progress’ and more ‘perturbations’ in
Macedonian politics cannot be ruled out.
CHAPTER NINE
____________________________________________________
MOLDOVA
Moldova is on the edge, in more ways than one. Geographically, it lies at SouthEastern Europe’s far north-eastern corner, remote and marginal.
Historically,
emotionally, it has bonds with Romania – and a flag you could mistake for Romania’s
– but is nowadays beyond the fringe of most Romanians’ consciousness. Politically,
not long ago the country’s leadership saw Moldova’s future in ‘the European
mainstream’ and sought and gained membership of the Stability Pact, albeit a
borderline case.
Within months, though, a disenchanted electorate had voted
decisively to put the Communists back in office (February 2001); and they, some say,
are more interested in a comprehensive restoration of connections with the
Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS).
Welcome to Chisinau, or Kishinev. Map-makers and timetable-compilers still cannot
make up their minds. Strategists and diplomats have their problems too – because,
on top of everything else, a great swathe of Moldovan territory has for years now
been literally a law unto itself. This is the self-styled Transdniestr Republic, an ‘entity’
if ever there was one, with its own President, executive – including a defence
minister – and legislature (Supreme Soviet), together with its own seat of government
in Tiraspol.
For the purpose of this chapter we concentrate on the legitimate state and on
Chisinau.
Not that there would be much to say about transparency and
accountability in ‘the breakaway republic’ (as everyone calls it): these words are not
in Tiraspol’s political vocabulary, we understand. Nor are they likely to be if the
bifurcation of the state is sanctioned – as it may be in the not-too-distant future – by
recognition of the two ‘entities’ in a new OSCE-brokered constitution (of which there
is more in the Conclusion to this profile).
1. Culture
Concentrating on Chisinau, then, the first point to be made is that, until the
Communists’ return to power – many bringing the habits and attitudes of the Soviet
era – an assessment of Moldova’s prospects of transition from authoritarian to
democratic politics, central planning to market economics, might have been
cautiously optimistic. In 2003, one cannot be as confident as that.
The truth of the matter is that at no time before 2001 was promoting accountability
and transparency in security-sector affairs a high priority on either popular or elite
agendas. Living on the edge economically, more immediate concerns demanded
attention. Thus there were, in a correspondent’s words, only:
limited efforts to ensure public openness about national defence planning and
military budget-making, and continuous oversight of activities of the military,
security services and law enforcers by democratically-elected authorities.
On the most generous of assessments, therefore, one would have to say that in
Moldova the idea of ‘democratic-style civil-military relations’ has put down shallow
roots in unpromising soil – perhaps.
In other words, the uncertainty was there even before the political upset of the last
ballot. At one stage it seemed that an independent ‘security community’ capable of
holding government to account might develop, rallying around the monthly Arena
Politicii; but the periodical folded in 2000. Hopes that the media might show interest
in developing a capacity to ‘shed light on power, lest power corrupts’ – these proved
ill-founded. Nor was the concept of legislative oversight of security and defence
affairs one that appealed to elected representatives.
The sale of 21 MiG fighters to the United States is cited by one source as illustrative
of the mountain that ‘accountability and transparency’ advocates have to climb. That
the transaction had even taken place did not become known until after the planes
had left Moldova. The news surfaced in the press. It was from the media – certainly
not the defence ministry – that parliamentarians learned about the deal. They still do
not know its exact terms.
Most telling of all, maybe, is that there was barely a whiff of protest when, on their
return to power in February 2001, the Communists appointed a career general, Victor
Gaychuk, as Minister of Defence. Just like old times. (His predecessor had been a
civilian, Valeriu Pasat.)
The appointment should not have been surprising, though. After all, the Left had
triumphed at the polls on the promise of a return to tried and tested formulae. In any
case, a contact tells us, the army ‘still considers itself a special corporation within the
state, with specific duties and having rights to privileges’.
The suspicion arises that one ‘right’ or ‘privilege’ that the military cherish is freedom
to get on with their business without unwonted interference from elected
representatives, curious ‘civil society’ organisations, or indeed civilians in any guise.
Another entitlement claimed might be freedom from any obligation to reveal, explain
and justify actions and outlays. Transparency has declined since early 2001, and a
stultifying Party discipline has been restored. Of the 71 Communist Party MPs (out
of 101) only a handful are permitted to speak to the media, we hear.
2. Policy accountability
Those earlier ‘limited efforts’ to establish democratic-style civil-military relations
rested on a package of laws adopted by the Moldovan Parliament in 1992 that are
still on the statute book. These are Laws On Armed Forces, On Defence, On the
Military Duty and Military Service of Citizens of the Republic of Moldova, and On
Social and Legal Protection for Military Servicemen and Their Family Members, as
well as for Individuals Undergoing Military Training.
The Law On Armed Forces requires accountability, at least implicitly, as both an
executive obligation (to account for what it does and what it spends) and an elected
representatives’ responsibility (to hold the government to account). It stipulates the
roles of the Presidency, the administration and the legislature with regard to both the
civilian direction and democratic control of the military. The President of the Republic
shall be Supreme Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces.
The Law On Defence sets out more detailed provisions. Among other things, it says:
Parliament shall be responsible for ensuring national defence, shall work out
military guidelines, and shall carry out legislative regulation in the fields of
armed forces development and defence.
Parliament shall approve a Military Doctrine and Concept for Armed Forces
Development; the principal structure of the Armed Forces; the military budget
appropriated to the defence needs; guidelines for Moldova’s military co-
operation with other countries; and those decrees issued by the President of
the Republic of Moldova which concern mobilisation, demobilisation and the
declaration of war.
These are only nominal powers. This Law confers the main substantive powers and
rights on the government, and places responsibility here for the nation’s defence
capabilities and the combat readiness of the military.
However it is the President who, because of his constitutional status and in his
capacity as Supreme Commander-in-Chief, is regarded in Moldova as ‘the most
legitimate institutional player in the formulation of the foreign and security policy of
the country’ (the words of a correspondent). The Law On Defence acknowledges
this in its provision for the establishment and operation of the Supreme Security
Council (SSC) as an advisory agency under the President. Its mission is to ‘provide
assistance in the development and practical realization of guidelines for armed forces
development and in ensuring national security’.
reference to ‘assistance’ fool no-one, however.
The ‘advisory’ status and the
In the course of monitoring the
executive agencies on behalf of the Head of State the SSC ‘makes a direct impact on
the passing of these or other decisions in the military sphere, which are related to the
functioning of the ‘power ministries’ and armed units subordinated to them’ (our
correspondent again).
This is entirely admissible under Moldova’s 1994 Constitution which does not contain
any detailed list of rights and powers held by legislative and executive authorities in
national security and defence policy and decision making, in the formulation and
implementation of a military doctrine, and in defence budgeting. It says:
(1) The Armed Forces shall be subordinate exclusively to the people’s will in
order to ensure sovereignty, independence, unity, territorial integrity, and
constitutional democracy.
(2) The national defence system structure shall be determined by an organic
law. (Article 108).
This is spectacularly imprecise and means that power can shift among the SSCsupported President, the Government and Parliament.
There is no doubt where the centre of gravity lies currently (2002/3).
The
Communists have a commanding majority in the legislature. Parliament elected the
Leader of the Communist Party of the Republic of Moldova (PCRM) as President in
April 2001, and since Vladimir Voronin took that office the impact of the democratic
opposition on security and defence policy has been negligible. Voronin put himself in
total control, as an interviewee explained to us:
Our President who should be independent decided after his election (by
parliamentary vote) to stay in charge of the Communist Party. So he has two
jobs; he rules the executive (influence over his ministers) and he rules his party
(the 70 per cent communist MPs). Also Voronin insisted that the speaker of
Parliament should be Ms Eugenia Ostapciuc. She will do exactly what Voronin
tells her. For the other key political position of Prime Minister [he chose the]
‘independent’ Vasile Tarlev [who] also has no voice of his own because
Voronin helped him to develop his political career. This results in a difficult and
strange situation when we talk about transparency.
Gaychuk’s appointment to the defence ministry set back democratic control of the
military as well.
So much for those ‘limited efforts’. New ‘authoritarian tendencies’, a source says, will
inevitably ‘hamper the democratic reformation of the army and the genuine
accountability of the army to the society’.
They have already marginalised the
Standing Parliamentary Commission for National Security (SPCNS) – the
legislature’s oversight body; and, we are told, even the Government now ‘routinely
approves policies examined and formulated at the level of the political leadership
ensured by the ruling communist party’.
The Standing Commission would not have rocked any boats anyhow. Of its nine
members, all but two are from the PCRM, including the Chairman, Secretary and one
of two Vice-Chairs. Formally, this body has the usual oversight committee’s powers.
It does not, however, have a serious interest in exercising them. Even before 2001,
we understand, it was a weak instrument. The executive acted, and informed the
elected representatives later. Nowadays it counts for even less. Another interviewee
– not the source of the long quotation above – said, in a conversation about
summoning ministers:
In the end it does not matter because the President is in absolute power and
he controls both Parliament and government. He tells the Chairman of the
Committee what to do just as he orders his ministers to act in a certain way.
The bottom-line here is self-evident. What passes for accountability on policy is a
pro forma accountability: no more than that; and of late barely that.
3. Financial accountability
Is the legislature, and its national security commission, just a ‘voting machine’
controlled by the Party leadership also when it comes to approving funds for
defence?
So far as we can gather it is. The formal procedure for handling the budget is of a
familiar kind. Essentially:
•
the government presents the annual consolidated budget based on
departmental bids and incorporating that for defence money; and
•
the legislature scrutinises the submission, taking its specialist standing
commission’s views into account, and then approves it (with or without
negotiated amendments).
In Moldovan practice, it appears, the Ministry of Finance vets departmental bids
particularly closely ‘because’, a correspondent writes, ‘the majority of the ministries
and departments usually exaggerate their financial needs’. This department then
‘presents its budget draft to the government and after hearings at the highest
executive level the document is presented to the parliamentary level’.
The SPCNS is ‘empowered to query and call for explanation and justification of
defence expenditures proposals’.
budget.
In fact it ‘rubber stamps’ its part of the state
The military funding does not require the explicit and separate formal
approval of the elected chamber. So, as our source puts it, ‘the defence budget is
considered as part of the overall state budget that do not require in the
parliamentarian opinion a more specific and attentive approach’.
If holding the executive to account ex ante is thus reduced to a charade, ex post
accountability is no better. ‘Rubber stamping’ is again the norm. Parliamentarians
are not required to be – and are not disposed to be – ‘specific and attentive’ here
either. They might be a little more so if the state audit body were effective. However,
the Curtea de Conturi is not. It goes through the motions of certifying ‘the legality
and propriety of public spending according the Law of budget and other legal
regulations concerning the use of public money’ – but that is all.
Actually, it is not all. Whatever may have been the case in the past, nowadays the
court is used primarily as a political weapon. According to one informant, it inquires:
….especially if political interests are involved.
You can investigate the
finances of your political opponents.
Another said:
The Chamber of Audit is a political instrument. It is used by the government
to bring the opposition in discredit.
Also the Chamber delays some
investigations against the government; these cases disappear for a long time
in the drawer of the officials who work there.
Yet another echoed the last point:
the director of the Chamber of Audit is a Communist and he will delay
requests from the opposition to investigate.
The conclusion here is obvious, as in the policy area. Democratic accountability in
Moldova – those ‘limited efforts’ of the 1990s – has given way to democratic
centralism. ‘The Party knows best’: so the party leader, installed in the Presidency
with the parallel bureaucracy of the SSC Secretariat at his disposal, calls all the
shots. Everything else is window-dressing (to mix metaphors).
4. Transparency in policy-making and planning
The window in question here is, of course, the one through which elected
representatives, interest-groups, ‘civil society’ institutions and the public-at-large are
supposed to ‘see’ how the business of government is being conducted on their
behalf. It should be fully transparent, according to democratic theory (open even, if
‘open government’ is to be practised).
Where democratic centralism prevails, however, transparency is not a priority.
Business can be done – and is done – ‘behind closed doors’ or, in this image,
shuttered windows. The best that those outside the ruling circle can expect is to be
allowed, occasionally, to glimpse the process of executive decision-making – the real
exercise of power – ‘through a glass darkly’.
What everyone does ‘see’ eventually, of course, is the outcome of the policy-making
process. In contemporary Chisinau, that is as good as it gets.
5. Transparency in programming and budgeting
Even the most centralist administration cannot, however, escape the requirement – in
defence as elsewhere – to indicate what resources are required and for what
purposes in an annual budget submission. So the process of budgeting is glimpsed
more often than other aspects of military decision-making; and the outcome of
resource allocation is seen at least once per year, more or less clearly, in the bid for
funds put forward.
In Moldova that means sight of a few figures – maybe two or three pages –
incorporated in the state budget, an indication of the share of total national resources
that the aggregate sum represents (the defence/GNP proportion), and very little else.
The MoD is supposed to explain the budget, we understand, but no details are
offered.
So challenges are difficult.
Furthermore ‘after adoption of the budget
nobody gets information how the money is spent’, a source says.
6. Equipment acquisition
‘There is a lack of resources, so we do not buy military equipment. We are satisfied
if we can feed the soldiers.’ These were the words of the chairman of the SPCNS
when asked about transparency in the capital spending area.
Other Moldovan witnesses were less dismissive.
Three quotations illustrate the
views they voiced about procurement generally (and disposals):
‘No information is provided. Arms sales and procurement is business. Even
the contracts with local bakeries (food for the armed forces) are business. It
is absolutely not transparent and parliament has no influence whatsoever.’
‘Often it is not clear where the money goes. At one point in let’s say 1995
army jackets were bought from Israel. It turned out these jackets were very
expensive while the quality was nothing special. There is a good chance that
some of the money which was reserved for this order went into the pockets of
who knows who.’
‘There is absolutely no transparency in this respect. Parliament does not
know exactly if something is bought or sold, for how much etc. We sold so
many weapons from old Soviet stocks and we do not know what happened to
the money.’
The remarks ring true (and were corroborated by others to whom we spoke in
Chisinau).
The ‘party line’ though is that this is not a very interesting subject since ‘we do not
buy any weapons’. One official put it as follows:
We have just six MIGs left and Moldova wants to sell them so we will not
have an air force in the future.
When MoD wanted to buy four new
helicopters in the end it was not possible due to lacking funds. Nothing is
bought and most weapons are Soviet equipment from before 1991.
If the six remaining MiGs are sold it will be interesting to see if the proceeds are
accounted for. From the earlier sale of 21 of the type to the US (mentioned above),
what happened to one-half of the payment, USD40 million of USD80 million, remains
unexplained.
7. Domestic Transparency in general: publications
So domestic transparency is not Chisinau’s strong suit. In the ‘strategy and doctrine’
area that is certainly so. During the 1990s one-off core texts were produced, Soviet
era-style. However, apart from the yearly budget, there are no regular publications
that illuminate the country’s defence policy, posture and provision.
8. International transparency
Nor is Moldova much interested in international transparency, although presumably
the international financial institutions are told something when the country seeks
support (as it regularly does).
Despite being a Stability Pact signatory, and beneficiary – and a country the Special
Co-ordinator recently urged Europe not to ‘neglect’ (mid-2002) – Moldova has not
taken part in the Pact-sponsored Budget Transparency Initiative. Though an OSCE
member it is also delinquent in not sharing with others information on its defence
effort under the OSCE’s confidence- and security-building regime.
Conclusion
In sum, neither accountability nor transparency are taken seriously in Moldova
nowadays. Since 2001, for all practical purposes the ‘limited efforts’ that were made
in the 1990s to lay the foundations for democratic control of the armed forces (as that
phrase is generally understood) have counted for virtually nothing. Moreover, while
the soft voices of reform are still to be heard in Chisinau, no-one is listening.
In Tiraspol – in ‘the breakaway republic’ – there are not even whispers, so far as we
can ascertain. Since the August 1991 putsch which put erstwhile Soviet Russians in
power the territory has been controlled by a Soviet-style police apparatus, with
political opposition banned and deference to Moscow assured by the now-unlawful
presence of Russian troops. In the statelet they do not even make a pretence of
accountability or pay lip-service to transparency.
So far as good governance is concerned, therefore, it is difficult to see what
advantage can accrue from the latest international effort to resolve the long-standing
Moldovan division, viz. an OSCE-brokered constitutional reform that will deliver a
loose federal set-up, essentially recognising (and legitimising) the breakaway entity.
CHAPTER TEN
____________________________________________________
ROMANIA
Times have changed. For decades Romania was one of the most secretive states
where matters of national (and regime) security were concerned and, in many
quarters, old attitudes persisted well into the 1990s. Of late, however, with European
and Euro-Atlantic integration top of the policy agenda – and the Brussels
organisations’ expectations and requirements receiving careful attention – the
country has made substantial, and almost certainly irrevocable, progress towards a
transparent approach to security-sector affairs. The steps being made to create an
appropriate legal framework, in line with practice in most NATO member states, will
leave little space for clandestine conduct in defence affairs. (The law on access to
public information and statute dealing with classified information are of particular
significance in this respect.)
1. Culture
The key point is that the Romanian government-in-office (2002/3) has finally
understood the need for reform and for publicising what it is doing to both
international audiences and the domestic public. A Ministry for Parliamentary
Relations has been created for planning and co-ordinating executive-legislature
dealings and, in particular, for making certain that the correct parliamentary process
is followed for all government-initiated legislation.
A post of State Secretary for
Parliamentary Liaison has been established within every Ministry. There is also a
Ministry of Public Information (MPI), actively engaged in providing material to
interested publics and society-at-large (though it is perceived by some elements in
the print and broadcast media and other personalities in ‘civil society’ with a certain
suspicion).
Relevant, too, is the reform of the two Chambers of the Romanian Parliament that
has been carried through, involving the transfer of work in all the main areas of public
business to specialised standing committees. Not only has this led to a simplification
and acceleration of the legislative process, it has made the conduct of affairs more
‘open’ than hitherto in the security and defence area and generally.
The Romanian Ministry of National Defence (MND) – through its Department of
Parliamentary Relations, Legislative Harmonisation and Public Relations – can now
fairly claim to meet most, if not all, of the tests by which institutional transparency is
gauged, from both domestic and international perspectives. A correspondent puts it
as follows:
It observes its legal obligations on how policy-making and planning,
programming and budgeting are done, and acquisitions too. In principle, it
stands ready to provide all the information legitimately required by elected
representatives, the media and ‘civil society’ and, at the same time, is
committed to involving the nation’s ‘security community’ in its policy
deliberations. It has begun to engage in open and intensive co-operation with
the media on such issues as how public funds are spent for military purposes,
how military reform is progressing, how military training is being improved.
Attention to public education pays off. Attitude surveys show that Romanians trust
their forces and strongly support their country’s imminent admission to NATO (c. 80
per cent ‘in favour’ according to a 2002 poll).
Noteworthy also is the amount of information available nowadays on public bodies’
websites (although not all are kept up to date). One particularly interesting item is to
be found on that of the MPI: a draft law on transparency in public sector decisionmaking (which may have been enacted by the time the present text appears in print).
Its provenance is interesting also: the administration’s Reform Action Plan (April
2002), an initiative undertaken as part of Romania’s preparations for accession to
NATO – duly secured with the invitation extended at that Organisation’s November
2002 Prague Summit; and to the European Union (EU) – which the country now
expects to join in 2007.
2. Policy accountability
There is a fairly clear obligation on Romanian governments to reveal, explain and
justify their defence policy and plans.
It is asserted, more or less explicitly, in
different chapters, sections or sub-sections of a number of laws on national security.
It is located within a broader legislative framework for the democratic control of the
military and other armed structures of the state, involving several institutions: the bicameral Parliament, the government, the President of Romania and the Supreme
Council of National Defence; the Constitutional Court, the judicial courts, the Court of
Audit and the office of Ombudsman (The Advocate of the People).
Parliament’s role is stipulated by the Constitution plus several statutes and
ordinances. These include legislation:
•
on national defence (L. 45/1994 – modified by OG 13/2000);
•
on the organisation of the Armed Forces (OU 14/2001);
•
on the preparation of the population, economy and territory for defence
(L.45/1994 and L.46/1996);
•
on the status of military personnel (L.80/1995 and HG 582/2001);
•
on the ‘material responsibility of the military’ (OG 121/1998);
•
on the planning of national defence (OG 52/1998, L. 63/2000).
Other laws, even if not of a military character, contain special provisions concerning
the Armed Forces. These include the Penal Code, statutes dealing with education
and political parties, plus, of course, the annual law dealing with the state budget (for
example, L. 743/2001 on the budget for 2002).
(A fuller list of defence-related
legislation is available in the TBP project ‘database’ (see Preface).)
In Romania the Government does not have the exclusive right of legislative initiative
but, in practice, most proposals originate from the individual ministry responsible for
the particular issue – in our area of interest, the MND. In its areas of responsibility
the MND itself is variously accountable to the Supreme Council of National Defence
and the government, and to the legislature. (OU 14/2001 Art.1 Para. 4)
Since 2000 the entire legislative framework for the security sector has been
reviewed, and amended or augmented, to achieve ‘harmonisation’ with arrangements
in NATO and EU member states, an effort involving hundreds 97 MND-initiated
legislative actions. The already-mentioned Ministry for Parliamentary Relations was
brought into being largely to facilitate this process and – what is important from the
accountability standpoint – to help make efficient liaison between elected
representatives and the administration a general and permanent attribute of
Romanian politics.
That motivation also underlay the decision to create in every ministry, including the
MND, a post of State Secretary for Parliamentary Liaison (a job at the assistant
minister level). This has transformed executive-legislature relations, engaging elected
representatives in the policy-making and planning process much more than hitherto.
These arrangements are ‘not as positive’ as you might think, however – an
opposition spokesperson tells us – because ‘MPs can’t reach the Ministers
themselves anymore’.
For parliamentarians involved in security-sector oversight these innovations meant a
step-change in the tempo of activity: two-hour meetings on three days per week at
both the Chamber of Deputies and the Senate. The workload is also explained partly
by the recent volume of business (the ‘harmonisation’ exercise), partly by Romanian
parliamentary practice.
Prior to submission to the Parliament, any draft law or
legislative proposal must be preceded by basic documentation and analysis,
including the history of domestic legislation in the area of interest and a review of
relevant international law and legislation in other states.
Further, the written
endorsement of the Legislative Council of the Parliament must accompany draft laws
submitted.
(L.24/2000, especially Art. 8,9,11,18,28,29; and Art. 86 Standing
Orders).
Both Chambers of the Romanian Parliament have permanent specialised
commissions for the security area – each called the Defence, Public Order and
National Security Committee. The composition of the standing committees depends
on the political configuration of the respective houses, members being appointed by
the leaders of the parliamentary groups. The make-up of the committees in 2002
was as follows:
Chamber of Deputies – 25 members (13 members of the party in office).
Senate – 11 members (5 members of the party in office).
Both meet regularly, typically three days per week, the programme being established
every Monday by Parliament’s Standing Bureau.
The Committees have essentially the same responsibilities. Indeed they work jointly
sometimes: for hearings on ministerial nominations (at the MND and the Interior
Ministry); for the approval of the state budget for defence, public order and national
security institutions; for the approval of military exercises on the national territory
involving foreign troops; and for hearings on reports from the Supreme Council of
National Defence. Meetings are not open to the public; but members of the cabinet,
invited experts, representatives of public authorities or media guests are often
present.
Government representatives must attend if summoned (by either
committee). Any member can put questions and ask the government to provide
documents.
Virtually all aspects of security-sector business fall within the oversight committees’
purview.
The scrutiny of laws, ordinances and regulations is their main
preoccupation (or has been lately). Other business might include the following (as
translated in Bucharest):
•
Attending evaluation sessions at the level of the ministry and staffs of the
various echelons of the armed forces.
•
Holding hearings on specific issues concerning the following institutions: the
Ministry of National Defence, the Ministry of Internal Affairs, the Guard and
Protection Service, the Special Communications Service, the Office of the
Government for Special Problems and the State Reserves.
•
Questioning commanders and analysing reports with a view to elucidating
certain negative aspects signalled on the occasion of parliamentary debates
or by the media.
•
Hearing the testimony of senior officers who want to report the attempt of
politicising.
•
Evaluating candidates for general rank positions and overseas military
representation.
•
Examining the activity of units; and
•
Receiving the testimony of executives and trade union leaders on questions
related to the defence industry.
As an indication of the workload this can represent, in 2001 the defence committee of
the Chamber of Deputies had 69 meetings and debated/voted 141 bills. (See
www.cdep.ro for its calendar.) Committee members may also undertake various
ceremonial and representational duties, such as ‘attending departures of sub-units
for missions abroad’ and meeting foreign military delegations.
The scrutiny of laws is thorough. The procedure is that MND-initiated, defencerelated draft texts are formally presented to the committees by the State Secretary
whose business is parliamentary affairs (see earlier), assisted by issue-specific
experts. The legislators are entitled to receive whatever oral testimony or written
material they require. In the general debate of the Chamber the (probably revised)
draft is accompanied by a submission on the rationale of the bill and the standing
committee’s report (with or without proposed amendments). When defence
legislation is officially submitted for debate and approval to a (Joint) Plenum meeting
either the Defence Minister or the State Secretary will normally be present.
Many committee members are themselves knowledgeable about defence matters.
On top of that, unlike counterpart oversight bodies elsewhere in South-Eastern
Europe, Romania’s committees have the staff support of senior advisers, experts and
consultants. They can also ask for government or Legislative Council elucidation of
any security-related document. (What they do not have is the money to commission
in-depth policy research from the country’s security community.)
A final noteworthy feature of the Romanian approach to policy accountability is the
requirement that each administration should ‘refresh’ security and defence policy.
The main strategic documents define a coherent approach to policy-making: the
National Security Strategy, the White Paper on National Security and Defence, the
Military Strategy and the Defence Planning Guidance; and the statutes – L.63/2000
(Art. I, Paras 2-14) and OG 52/1998 (Art. 2 –3) – require that these documents are
the result of deliberation involving all authorised institutions, the legislature being the
first one mentioned. It is also laid down that the National Security Strategy (initiated
by the President) and the White Paper (produced by the government) shall be
presented ‘within three months after the investiture of these authorities’ (as a local
writer puts it), prior to parliamentary debate and approval.
These two main
documents then constitute the basis for the formulation of departmental strategies,
programmes and plans. The MND is responsible for preparing, and presenting to the
legislature, the National Military Strategy and medium-term (four-year horizon) and
long-term programmes for implementing the strategic documents.
3. Financial accountability
According to present legislation, there is a specific obligation that within each of the
major policy documents mentioned above there should be information about what is
implied
in
terms
of
financial
resources
for
defence
(L.
63/2000,
Arts.
4,5,7,8,12,13,14).
It goes without saying, though, that the heart of financial
accountability is the budget process.
In Romania the government is responsible for presenting the draft state budget to the
legislature and for achieving its objectives after approval (L. 72/1996). The draft
budget for defence is elaborated by the MND, and the MND is responsible for its
execution (OU 14/2001, Art. 9). The Ministry of Finance collates all proposals for the
state budget, which must be accompanied by detailed information and documented
rationales for both expenditures and revenue.
The timetable and procedure for considering these submissions are precise. Not later
than 10 October each year, the government has to present the draft state budget to
Parliament.
It is accompanied by a report on the present and future economic
situation of the country. Every ministry’s budget has to be approved by programmes,
articles, and chapters and as a whole (L. 72/1996, Art 25). To this end the Standing
Bureau provides a copy of the draft departmental budgets to each and every member
of the legislature.
The proposals are then examined in the specialised standing
committees. The Deputies’ Defence Committees send their endorsement of the
MND’s bid – together with any proposed amendments – to the Budget, Finance and
Banks Committee to be presented for approval by the ‘whole house’ (where further
debate takes place).
Ministers have no other substantive obligations as regards informing or consulting
the country’s elected representatives in the course of budget elaboration. In practice,
however, lawmakers know the programme-in-being and can find out what options for
change are under consideration; and parameters like the share of national resources
that it is proposed to devote to defence are made known a couple of months before
the submission of the draft budget. (The proportion was 2.47 per cent of GDP for
2002).
Clearly in Romania as elsewhere the October-December schedule for budget
consideration is a punishing one. In fact 2001 was the first year when the budget
proposal (for 2002) was submitted, and the budget law (L.743/2001) approved, in
due time. (The Law was published on 11 December 2001.)
Through 2000 and 2001 the Romanian MND tested a new Planning, Programming,
Budgeting and Evaluation System (PPEBS).
This led to the presentation of a
programme-based defence budget for 2002, significantly more informative than
earlier submissions.
The programmes material set out in detail all planned
expenditures, most described in annexes. It was approved with just one amendment
(and that relating to a matter which arose after the submission of the draft budget).
The legislature has the power to delete line items. It can also ask a minister to
amend a bid, provided it can identify and indicate where the money will come from. It
did neither on this occasion.
The Defence Committees of both chambers work together on budget scrutiny. It is
their most time-consuming responsibility and occupies them for a couple of weeks of
8-hour days in October-November each year. They can ask MND representatives to
elucidate any matter.
In 2001 they did that, but the ‘new model’ budget was
supported by a lot of explanatory material anyway.
By all accounts the elected
representatives were satisfied with the amount and quality of information offered by
the MND’s minister and his staffs. It has to be said, however, that 2001 may have
been an exceptional year, with ‘looking good for NATO’ an important consideration.
Oversight of realised expenditures – ex post accountability as we have called it
elsewhere in this study – is helped by the country’s Court of Audit. This institution
monitors all public spending and works to a programme that can be interfered with or
interrupted only by the legislature, which can also ask it to do specific investigations.
It has unrestricted access to all the documents of all physical/juridical persons, even
to classified material (with an obligation here not to reveal content to unauthorised
persons or institutions). The Court has ‘control’ functions, related to the legality and
propriety of use of public money. It can also do ‘value-for-money’ work, looking at
economy, efficiency and effectiveness in the administration of funds. Without its
certification, after complete investigation of all accounts, the budget execution of a
public institution cannot be ‘discharged’ and the responsible persons are subject to
the criminal law. It is thus the country’s most important financial oversight institution
– vis-à-vis defence and generally – with a key role in exposing fraud, waste and
mismanagement. (Its annual report is published in the ‘Official Monitory’.)
Absent from the foregoing description of arrangements for financial accountability
(and the earlier material on policy accountability) is an assessment of the real
effectiveness of Romania’s security-sector oversight committees. Do they ‘put to the
question’ what is proposed by the government – and the MND in particular – in a
thorough and systematic way; or is the norm ‘rubber stamp’ approval of whatever the
executive wants?
When they hold ‘hearings on specific issues’ or examine ‘the
activity of units’ are their inquiries searching or perfunctory? Is a call to appear
before them regarded with a certain apprehension by officials and officers; or as a ‘no
problem’ affair, perhaps even offering an opportunity for self-serving testimony or
institutional promotion? Are witnesses interrogated or questioned deferentially?
Opinions differ. Not surprisingly, informants who are supporters of the powers-thatbe say that on the whole the commissions do a good job. Independent observers
incline to this view also. Members from opposition parties, however, have tales to tell
of issues side-stepped and criticism stifled.
The essence of the critique is the ‘tyranny of the majority’ phenomenon. By the time
most issues reach the floor of the legislature or the table of the committee, it is
alleged, the ruling party has made up its mind; and, on the strength of its majority in
both settings, ‘rubber-stamping’ is commonplace.
Minority deputies also express
dissatisfaction at the unwillingness of ministers to appear before the committees and
the lack of preparation that is frequently evident when senior officials and officers
attend. In addition, they say that often their questions are not taken, because they
are simply not ‘given the floor’.
This is a phenomenon about which female
parliamentarians feel particularly strongly: they suspect that women who take an
interest in military affairs are regarded as ‘not serious’ (and complain that here, and
elsewhere in South-Eastern Europe, the ‘gender dimension’ generally receives
insufficient attention in the security discourse.)
A further criticism is that
interpellations often simply go unanswered.
4. Transparency in policy-making and planning
The government and other public authorities in Romania are obliged to place in the
public domain all their draft laws and proposals regarding national security policy.
The Constitution says so (Art. 31). So does legislation regarding ‘public interest’
information (L. 544/2001) and on planning in the defence sector (L. 63/2000).
All the major documents in this field – the National Security Strategy, the White
Paper on National Security and Defence, the Governance Plan, the Military Strategy
and Defence Planning Guidance – are ‘public interest’ documents, and hence
available in the open literature and accessible on the internet.
During the elaboration of the latest core policy documents the openness of the
decision–making process is a matter of record.
•
The MND’s State Secretary for parliamentary affairs orchestrated a wideranging consultation exercise involving public bodies plus members of the
country’s security community (academics and NGO personnel).
•
In the case of the National Security Strategy – adopted in December 2001 –
the Supreme Council organised public debates and working meetings for
analysts as the text proceeded though successive drafts.
•
The General Staff sent the National Military Strategy paper for amendment
and suggestions for improvement to several representatives of ‘civil society’
and to selected institutions.
Even though generally diligent in covering current affairs, the Romanian media
employ few journalists with defence expertise.
They are customarily content to
present the result of debates. It is none the less noteworthy that, in their view, the
MND itself and the parliamentary committees do attach great importance to
transparency in the conduct of their business. Some critics think that Ministers are
sometimes too ‘open’: not in revealing secrets but in allowing themselves to be
pressed by persistent journalists into making promises they cannot keep.
In the routine provision of information the Strategic Planning Directorate at the MND
– the office responsible for preparing and keeping up to date the Strategic Evaluation
of Security and the Military Strategy of Romania – is particularly well regarded.
Impressive, too, is the amount of material available on the ministry’s website (though
this is not always up to date).
The authorities in Bucharest are generally co-operative also in dealing with
information requests, domestic or external, and in helping individuals and institutions
engaged in defence-related policy research.
5. Transparency in programming and budgeting
Data on past, current and budgeted expenditure – including defence spending – are
‘public interest’ material as well in Romania. Transparency is mentioned, explicitly or
implicitly, in a variety of laws and ordinances promulgated over the last decade.
These include
•
the law on the Court of Audit (L. 94/1992)
•
a general law regarding the public finances (L. 72/1996),
•
the latest law on planning national defence (L. 63/2000),
•
the law on the state budget (L. 743/2001 and earlier annual statutes),
•
a government decision concerning the structure and functioning of the MND (
OG 14/2001), and
•
a decision on e-procurement (OG 182/2002).
More generally, the country’s reform agenda – as it made final preparations for
NATO accession – highlighted governance improvements, including commitments to
transparency.
The new Planning, Programming, Budgeting and Evaluation System (PPBES) at the
MND must count as such an ‘improvement’. Tested in 2000-2001, the system was
used in preparing the ministry’s budget for 2002. This was submitted, as noted
earlier, with bids expressed in terms of the eight programmes defined for the
Planning Cycle 2000-2005. Each of these has a programme manager, usually a
service chief, responsible first for budgeting and then for budget execution and
resources management (after the legislature has appropriated funds).
The PPBES has made it much easier to debate defence’s place in national priorities
and the pattern of defence priorities (or the allocation of resources to and within
defence). The draft defence budget for 2002 contained detailed information and
figures for each and every programme, in a submission running to 147 pages. The
numbers included the amount sought for defence from the state budget plus material
on external credits and ‘off-budget’ revenues.
They covered all expenditures for military purposes, we are told. There are no ‘black’
programmes in Romania, apparently: ‘elected representatives and the members of
the Court of Audit have access to all information...regardless of the ‘state secret’
status’, a source says; ‘even in the case of expenditures for the counter-intelligence
military services, the main figures of their budgets are known’.
Some facts and figures are also available about the socio-economic costs associated
with the process of reduction, rationalisation and restructuring of armed forces upon
which Romania is engaged. A manpower resettlement – or personnel ‘conversion’ –
programme has been developed by the MND in co-operation with other public
agencies and not-for-profit institutions. Its progress is recorded on the ministry’s
website. Devised with the help of NATO and the World Bank, in 2002 this venture
received an infusion of USD 3 million of the latter’s money.
There are no reliable data, however, about the impact of defence on the Romanian
economy, including the industrial consequences of the shrinking of the defence effort
that is underway. ‘The situation is still uncertain’, a correspondent writes, ‘because
the MND’s modernisation programmes have not started and the quality of the
Romanian defence industry’s products is still not up to NATO standards’. (The
Ministry of Industry and Resources (MIR) is now responsible for defence-related
industry.)
6. Equipment acquisition
It follows that within the MND there has not been much to do of late in managing
major equipment modernisation. The MND’s Weapons Department has been busy
nevertheless.
The current procurement strategy (2002/3) emphasises upgrading
available weapons systems and acquiring selected items of high priority for the
purpose of NATO interoperability (often from leading foreign firms). The accession
agenda also prompted some infrastructure spending.
In addition, the MIR is
examining how modern production technology might be introduced to what is left of
the national defence industry, in readiness for the time when there will be money for
force modernisation (2004-2007, on present plans).
Still, the Romanians have their procurement procedures in place. They are regulated
by several statutes, including:
•
one relating to the national defence planning process (L. 63/2000);
•
another regarding public acquisitions (OU 60/2001); and
•
the Instructions Series 1000 on the Integrated Defence Acquisitions
Management System issued under the authority of Defence Minister’s Order
33/1999.
In addition there are relevant provisions in the law on the Court of Audit (L. 94/1992),
the law on e-procurement (L. 182/2002), that on public information (L. 544/2001),
and, of course, the annual budget law (L. 743/2001 and predecessors).
A law on ‘classified information’ completes the legal framework by making it clear
what ‘state secret’ means. At the time of writing practice hinges on a statute that
exempts defence authorities from the obligations of the public acquisition system
where ‘secret’ information is involved, related to weapons, munitions, and suchlike.
Elected representatives interviewed for this inquiry said that, under existing
arrangements, they enjoy access to all the information they really need to monitor
equipment procurement.
Not having precise technical descriptions or exact
performance details was not, they felt, a major impediment to oversight. (They are
right.)
Acquisition programmes are monitored continuously at the MND, and a report is
presented at completion or, in the case of multi-year projects, annually for their
duration. All ‘big ticket’ projects or very long-term schemes require parliamentary
approval.
The defence committees’ views on arms acquisitions in progress or
envisaged are considered prior to deliberation on the defence budget.
The Court of Audit is the institution authorised to oversee all main capital expenditure
programmes (including those that are “state secrets”) and the results of its
surveillance are incorporated in the report it presents each year to the legislature.
The Court has the right, of course, to investigate programme management at the
request of legislators or on its own initiative.
There is also an Internal Audit Directorate within the MND that is responsible for
‘controlling the administration of patrimony’ and the ‘efficiency and economy of ….
managers’ activity’ as an informant puts it.
The question is: does this add up to ‘good practice’, by South-East European
standards or wider tests? The foregoing summary of policy and procedure suggests
that all is in good order. And the lawmakers we interviewed appeared content that
the Romanian MND does its procurement business in a satisfactorily transparent
way. Yet we hear testimony – even from the country’s President and Prime Minister
– that corruption is one of Romania’s endemic shortcomings. Is there none at all in
an area of public administration which elsewhere provides some of the most
attractive opportunities for malpractice?
We can recall news stories of dubious
dealings in the past, in connection with a high-profile helicopter purchase, for
example. Has Bucharest really put all that sort of thing behind it, once and for all?
Obviously there is still malpractice, and there are still dubious dealings. The problem
is ‘people can get away with it’, according to one well-informed source. It is a ‘quality
of administration’ issue, first and foremost.
7. Domestic transparency in general: regular publications
Romania is unique – among South-East European countries certainly, maybe in
Europe as a whole – in having made legal provision to ensure that its security policy,
defence policy and military strategy are ‘refreshed’ periodically, whenever the political
leadership changes to be precise.
No less important for present purposes, the confirmed, revised or perhaps radically
altered bases for national dispositions must be made known in a reasonable time, by
way of the publication of documents:
•
The foundation text, National Security Strategy, is one that a President of the
Republic must present within three months of his investiture.
•
The Prime Minister must issue a new government’s White Paper on National
Security and Defence equally promptly after a general election.
•
If the requirement for a revision of Military Strategy arises, the MND must do
whatever is necessary (as it was doing in 2002) and promulgate its updated
text by Governmental Decision.
The more concrete Defence Planning Guidance has to appear in the public domain
also. This is a document that is revised annually. The 2001 version defined the
eight-programme structure now used for the MND’s budget (from 2002) – the latter
also a ‘public interest’ document, of course, as are the ministry’s accounts and the
Court of Audit’s report on them.
Other material emanates from the General Staff. Documents for which its Strategic
Planning Directorate is responsible include a periodic Strategic Evaluation of Security
and the Plan of Joint Strategic Capacities.
The management of Romania’s defences is reported on in various ways as well.
Evaluation reports on the PPEBS programmes are mandatory. In addition, the MND
must now publish an ‘activity report’ each year (L. 544/2001). Among much else this
should incorporate statistics on manpower and equipment and the ‘performance
indicators’ that are currently à la mode. There should be a copy of the latest report on
the government’s website.
All this adds up to a formidable array of regular publications and underlies the earlier
judgement that Romania has institutionalised transparency in the conduct of securitysector affairs.
Moreover, the country takes public information activity seriously these days. There
was an outpouring of material on progress towards NATO accession pre-November
2002, some of it reporting the outcome of so-called ‘objective-achievement’
evaluations. On this and other matters the MND was impressively energetic with its
weekly briefings and periodic media tours, and highly professional in its approach to
the issuing of press releases or bulletins and to the handling of queries. It has vowed
to remain diligent in the final phase of preparation for actual membership of NATO.
Then there is an extensive military press and broadcasting set-up. The Romanian
Armed Forces Media Trust runs a number of regular publications plus weekly radio
and TV shows. The information presented in or on Military Observer, Pro Patria,
Army Hour, Modern Military Spirit is also available on the internet. The National
Military Library is a very useful resource centre too.
Finally under this heading, the output of Romania’s ‘security community’ should be
noted. Examples are the Occasional Papers of the Institute for Political Studies of
Defence and Military History (like Defence Policy Developments: Old and New
Missions for the Armed Forces, No. 1/2002) and several periodicals (the Romanian
Journal for International Affairs, the George C. Marshall Romania Association’s
Security and Co-operation, and Central European Issues from the Manfred Wörner
Euro-Atlantic Association Romania.) Local think tanks are mainly active in promoting
debate in many domestic/international seminars, workshops, conferences and
suchlike.
8. International transparency
We stress domestic transparency – as the guarantor of democratic accountability – in
this chapter (and in the Report of which it is part). We attach a lot of importance too,
though, to international transparency – as a confidence- and security-building
measure – especially in the South-East European regional context.
Under this heading the main points to register regarding Romania are the following:
•
The country participates in the OSCE’s information-exchange arrangements
organised around the Vienna Document 1999 (VD99) and acknowledges its
politically-binding obligation to share material with other OSCE governments,
including defence expenditure data (past, current, and projected).
•
It has also supported the Stability Pact-sponsored regional Budget
Transparency Initiative and the production of this venture’s first tangible
output, viz. a Yearbook on South-East European Defence Spending (pilot
version published 2002). This compilation is significant primarily because it
places VD99 material in the public domain.
•
The authorities in Bucharest have also pledged that they will work with other
governments in the neighbourhood to develop a better flow of information as
part of shared interoperability goals (with particular reference to the
‘connectivity’ with NATO member-states that is important to all of them).
The second and third items on this list are worth emphasis because of their regional
(or sub-regional) dimension. They represent another expression of the importance
Romania attaches to ‘good neighbourliness’, as manifest in the country’s
engagement in a variety of co-operative undertakings in the defence and security
field (too numerous to mention, but all significant from a neighbourhood
transparency-building standpoint).
Conclusion
Times have changed, indeed. In the South-East European neighbourhood Romania
stands, alongside Bulgaria, as an exemplar of ‘good practice’ in defence
transparency and accountability. In fact, if Romania could emulate Bulgaria in the
matter of budget preparation and presentation, and if Bulgaria could energise its
elected representatives as Romania has done and introduce practices like the
mandatory updating (and subsequent dissemination) of key policy texts – then the
two countries’ policy and practice would stand comparison with the set-up in many, if
not most, mature democracies.
It is appropriate, though, to sound cautionary notes as well.
The ‘quality of
administration’ in Bucharest leaves much to be desired. The ‘tyranny of the majority’
phenomenon has been noted.
Exactly how the balance is struck between the
legitimate exercise of executive authority and appropriate attention to real
accountability is an issue too (as it is in Sofia). Also, it is fair to ask whether what
Romania has accomplished in 2000-2002 – under the leadership of politicians clearly
committed to reform, with NATO (and EU) accession in the forefront of their minds –
is sufficiently well founded to survive the complacency or self-satisfaction that may
set in now that the invitation to take up NATO membership is ‘in the bag’ and a date
for joining the EU has at last been given.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
____________________________________________________
SERBIA AND MONTENEGRO1
On the face of it, describing policy and practice in relation to transparency and
accountability in defence, and the security sector generally, is a straightforward task.
For some South-East European countries, however, there is a difficulty – the ‘moving
target(s)’ problem.
For a while now preparations have been underway for some ‘state-level’ coordination of all Bosnia and Herzegovina’s armed forces and people have been
thinking about how to provide for accountability at this level. In Bulgaria they have a
new approach to military budgeting – and budget presentation – that will greatly
improve transparency and understanding of future resource use. The innovations will
also facilitate more effective legislative scrutiny of the defence effort (if Sofia’s
parliamentarians are interested). In Croatia, as the many pressures associated with
participation in NATO’s Membership Action Plan (MAP) procedure kick in, it is fairly
certain that ‘transparency and accountability’ arrangements will alter, for the better.
‘Policy and practice’ in post-Ohrid Macedonia are going to become more ‘inclusive’.
And so on and so forth.
The ‘moving target(s)’ phenomenon poses particular problems so far as infant Serbia
and Montenegro is concerned. What we can report is how things were in the ‘old’
Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (FRY).
Yet this is bound to change as a new
institutional framework emerges following establishment of the new 'state union' with
its new name and as the effort to introduce a new ‘culture’ in security-sector decisionmaking bears fruit.
It makes sense, therefore, to write here a hybrid profile,
highlighting what was wrong with defence transparency and accountability in the
FRY, and what it is important to get 'right' in the new circumstances.
All this is assuming that the state union will have the stomach, and the legitimacy, to
sustain far-reaching reform. This is not a foregone conclusion, according to some
observers. Although prescribed in the so-called 'Solana Agreement' – signed in
1
Formerly the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (FRY).
Belgrade on 14 March 2002 – the making of the union was a protracted process,
partly because of deliberate stalling by those who signed the Belgrade accord
reluctantly, e.g. Montenegrin President Djukanovic and (former) Serbian Premier
Djindjic. Moreover, electoral apathy in Serbia and popular scepticism about the timelimited formula in Montenegro plagued the state union’s infancy reflecting what one
commentator has called 'frustration with yet another dysfunctional form of statehood,
imposed on twisting local leaders by the great powers'. However, Prime Minister
Zoran Zivkovic’s administration is evidently in earnest about relieving the country of
the burdens of the FRY’s legacy, even in the security sector. Head of CounterIntelligence General Aco Tonic was retired in late March 2003 (and arrested soon
after over alleged connections with Zoran Djindjic’s assassins). In August 2003 the
Head of Military Intelligence, General Radoslav Skoric, was stood down – as was
Deputy Chief of Staff General Vladimir Lazarevic – in a major purge of the high
command that got rid of almost one-third of active generals and admirals.
1. Culture
It would appear, therefore, that Defence Minister Boris Tadic is indeed determined to
‘change the culture’ in his area of responsibility; and greater openness should be a
feature of that. Until Tadic’s appointment, though, it was impossible to be optimistic
on this score. In fact most analysts and others consulted for this inquiry said that in
the decade to 2002 – that is, from the time Slobodan Milosevic entered high office to
the last days of his successor’s rule – there was a progressive reduction in the
amount of information available about defence and broader security-sector affairs
and a diminution in the quality of insight into military matters attainable in the FRY.
Certainly, there was no pronounced change when Vojislav Kostunica took over the
Federal Presidency. To be sure, some hitherto taboo topics could be raised for
public discussion, and even campaigning. But the new incumbent was no more
enthusiastic about transparency than his predecessor had been.
As for notions of democratic accountability vis-à-vis national security, neither element
in that prescription cut any ice with Milosevic. He was interested in his own brutal
brand of democratic centralism; and he was interested in regime security. Here his
successor was of a different stripe, though Kostunica was never a torchbearer for
democratic control of the armed forces and other ‘power structures’ of the state.
The growth of the ‘transparency deficit’ is graphically illustrated by what happened
over the years to the presentation of the defence budget to elected representatives.
In 1992 the FRY legislators received a 200-page document of facts, figures,
explanations and justifications.
When the executive branch’s submission for
spending in 2002 came to be made, the military funding bid had shrunk to a short
summary presentation within the state budget volume.
As for the exercise of personal direction of the military, and a reluctance to be held to
account for it, the last Yugoslav President took full advantage of the fact that the
Yugoslav Army was directly answerable to his office not the Assembly; and, like
Milosevic before him, also by-passed the Supreme Defence Council (of the three
Presidents) to decide most military matters alone.
The General Staff was directly accountable to the President too, of course, and for
years a law unto itself.
Notwithstanding the fact that the President was directly
elected, this is at odds with norms of democratic ‘control’ and accountability.
Furthermore it is an invitation to hubris – witness some of the conduct of Chief of the
General Staff Pavkovic, under both Milosevic and Kostunica, until meeting his
nemesis mid-2002. Infant Serbia and Montenegro has at least got off to a promising
start in this latter respect, in the sense that the Supreme Defence Council (SDC) now
functions as it should. Indeed the August 2003 purge of the high command was a
collective SDC decision.
2. Accountability : democratic and legislative oversight
Building an accountability ‘culture’ may be more problematical, and whether Zivkovic
and Tadic are fully committed to this objective is for the time being unclear. There is
an entrenched legacy to overcome. According to a leading civil-military relations
scholar in Belgrade –
speaking of FRY arrangements – ‘all ambiguities and
malfunctioning in the oversight of the armed forces (as well as defence policy in
general) rise from the Constitution of the Republic of Yugoslavia. The Yugoslav
Army is directly accountable to the Federal President of Yugoslavia … who is directly
elected by people and not accountable to the Parliament.’
This is a recipe for
democratic centralism (‘the Party or Leader knows best’). It is fundamentally at odds
with the very basis of ‘real’ democracy (‘the people know best’).
The answer to ‘ambiguities and malfunctioning’ then is an institutional framework
founded on the notion of democratic oversight, with legislative oversight exercised by
the people’s elected representatives at its heart. That is easier said than done, given
the set-up inherited from the FRY – a system largely beyond democratic control, to
use a phrase from a late assessment of practice under the old constitution.2
This source explains very clearly that in its last days the old FRY was burdened, first,
by 'the legacy of a mixture of old communist laws and Milosevic-style legislation and
institutions…[both] designed to safeguard the ruling ideology of the time and
authoritarian leaders and governments and to protect them by all available means'
(p. 2). Second, in the Yugoslav Army (VJ) officers who were not once loyal to
Milosevic were few and far between and there were no signs of substantial efforts
within the military to break with the legacy of the old regime' (p. 3). Specifically, the
VJ was 'very reluctant to open up towards new trends of transparency and dialogue
with the political establishment and civil society institutions'; and there was no 'critical
mass' for reform. Some 'modern voices' were heard occasionally, but the high
command was 'paranoid' about external influence.
All this was buttressed by an 'absurd institutional structure' where the Ministry of
Defence (MoD) was virtually powerless: four-fifths of its staff were active VJ officers;
but, anyway, the Chief of the General Staff 'communicate[d] directly with the
President of the FRY, by-passing the Ministry of Defence altogether' (p. 4). There
was civilian direction in that nominally the SDC gave the VJ its marching orders: but
here, as noted, the Federal President dominated; and there existed, neither
procedure nor mechanisms for monitoring its decisions' (p. 4 again). The lack of
transparency in the SDC's work, this source says, was 'obvious and provoke[d]
concern', as did the fact that the body 'is not under any obligation to report to any
other parliamentary or executive body in the country' (p. 5).
This brings the argument back to the old constitution which proclaimed 'protection of
the constitutional order' as the supreme task of the national armed forces (but failed
to specify what that meant); and to the absence of complementary legislation to
regulate the military.
That legislation has been well summarised, and critically summarized, in another
DCAF publication: the invaluable Compendium of Yugoslav Laws on the Security
2
See Zoran Pajic, ‘Legal Aspects of Security Sector Reform in the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia’,
DCAF Working Paper, No. 18 (Geneva: DCAF, April 2002).
Sector: Human Rights and Democratic Oversight Aspects.3 Among other things the
commentaries in this compilation say the following:
Section 1 (Constitutions)
‘The present constitution order … is obviously incoherent …’.
Section 2 (Federal Defence Acts)
‘… the central role remains with the Army of Yugoslavia (VJ)’
‘civilian control … is mainly in the hands of executive branch’.
‘There is no kind of regulation on procedures and reaching decision in The
Supreme Defence Council’.
Section 3 (Federal Army Acts)
‘… the obsolete provision on role of the VJ in preserving the established
constitutional order has remained. The legal door to abuse of the Army in
internal conflicts thus has remained.’
Section 6 (Serbian Defence Acts)
‘The People’s Assembly is completely out of the picture.’
(This is only a selection of key phrases from detailed commentaries.)
The results of the above are well known. They include not only (a) Nebojsa
Pavkovic's notorious hubris (prior to his dismissal in June 2002), graphically
illustrated by the arrest of a Serbian Vice-President and an American diplomat on the
very day the Belgrade accord was signed (14 March 2002), but also (b) the existence
of the 'extra-constitutional parallel command structures' within the VJ to which the
International Crisis Group (ICG) drew attention in several reports in 2001/2002, and
(c) the mischief the VJ has done in Bosnia and Herzegovina (through its relationship
with the Republika Srpska's army) and in Kosovo (by supporting renegade security
forces like the Mitrovica 'bridge watchers' as well as through the conduct of its own
units).
Putting in place accountable leaders, putting aside 'parallel command structures' and
putting and end to mischief-making – these are not going to be easy tasks. The
August 2003 purge presumably marks the beginning of the end of the old order; but
the challenge of framing appropriate secondary legislation and evolving effective
3
Philipp Fluri and Miroslav Hadzic (eds.), Compendium of Yugoslav Laws on the Security Sector:
Human Rights and Democratic Oversight Aspects, (Belgrade: CCMR/DCAF, 2002).
mechanisms for making high office-holders and the high command democratically
accountable – that remains.
What is required was well spelt out in 2002 by a senior official of what was then the
OSCE’s Mission in the FRY (OMIFRY). He said there are three essential elements
to effective democratic oversight:
•
‘A government that accepts as a fundamental principle that security policy is a
legitimate concern of and subject for examination by society as a whole;
•
A parliament that takes seriously both its right to review and examine all
aspects of security policy and its obligation to act responsibly in both
protecting legitimate confidentiality and avoiding politicization; and
•
A civil society sector with non-governmental civilian expertise in security
issues that can provide independent, non-political assessments, advice and
criticism.’
•
‘Even with good will and the best of intentions’, this official continued, ‘in each
of those spheres effective and responsible oversight can only be achieved if
both structures and individuals develop the everyday tools to do the job
properly. In no one sector can such tools and expertise be developed if there
is not corresponding progress in the other sectors.’
‘The mix of necessities includes’, the argument goes on:
•
Clear cut legislation requiring transparency in military and security force
budgets with mandatory effective parliamentary oversight;
•
Legislation requiring and establishing effective civilian control structures
within the Ministry of Defence, the police and other security forces, including
civilian control over internal budget processes;
•
Executive branch commitment to staff [fill] positions with qualified civilian
experts and to give them essential political backing; and
•
The development – in academia, research institutes, the press, and other
institutions – of a civilian cadre with the knowledge and judgment to staff [fill]
civilian governmental and parliamentary positions in the security sector.
‘All of these elements need to be in place to ensure effective oversight’, the official
added.
Relating this formulation – and it is an excellent one – to FRY conditions in 2002, the
same official proceeded to suggest four prerequisites ‘critical at this stage of
Yugoslavia’s transformation’, namely:
•
appropriate oversight legislation;
•
a parliament with the expert capacity and structures to become a serious and
responsible player;
•
permanent committee structures, with the expert staff and resources needed
to analyse the full range of security issues – including budgets – and to
provide elected representatives with reliable information and advice;
•
regular mechanisms for public hearings on security issues and budgets in
which all interested individuals and institutions from the civil sector can
present their views before final decisions are taken on legislation.
Recasting this for the purposes of the present argument: absence of the above
accounted for a big part of ‘what was wrong’ with the FRY’s institutional
arrangements. Serbia and Montenegro should take note.
The beginnings have not been wholly auspicious. The 'Solana Agreement' said that:
The Army of Serbia and Montenegro is [to be] commanded by a Supreme
Defence Council composed of three presidents. The Council reaches its
decisions by consensus. (Emphasis added.)
Notwithstanding the SDC’s firm action in August 2003 – to rid the new state-union’s
army of the remnants of its old conservative and Milosevic-loyalist elements – this
does not assuredly eliminate the core problem of the old FRY set-up. Unless the
italicised sentence always means exactly what it says, the possibility of an assertive
Union President acting as primus inter pares cannot be discounted.
This puts the onus of root-and-branch transformation on whatever 'secondary
legislation' now emerges. Getting clear-cut statutes may be problematical. Relevant
here are the remarks of a (Federal) parliamentarian on the weakness of legislative
oversight in the post-Milosevic period:
•
Firstly, after so many years under dictatorship, the parliament must adopt
many new democratic laws. The parliament is overloaded with the task. In
this respect, the security committee (and also other committees) do not work
well.
We only make comments on the government’s proposals.
We are
continuously running behind the government’s legislative agenda and we do
not put forward our own strategies, objectives and ideas enough.
•
Secondly, we are not careful enough with our legislative work. Due to time
pressures, we do not spend sufficient time on inspecting the government’s
proposals for new laws.
For example, we do not conduct hearings in a
systematic way.
•
A last factor that contributed to weak parliamentary oversight is that President
Kostunica held a very strong constitutional position regarding the armed
forces inherited from Milosevic who used the military for his own personal
strategies.
The infant Serbia and Montenegro will have pressures of its own; and, on this
argument (and others), would clearly be well-advised to explore how to avoid
becoming hostage to presidential priorities.
Perpetuating the absurdity of military leaders who can ride roughshod over the
legislature, or simply ignore the lawmakers, would certainly be unwise. According to
one of our sources, in the 10 years (mid-)1992-2002 neither the FRY’s Minister of
Defence nor the Chief of the General Staff attended the meetings of the Federal
Assembly’s Committee of Security and Defence. Only in the closing months of 2002,
indeed, did any Federal Minister deign to testify before elected representatives. On
one occasion in the undemocratic decade Chief of the General Staff Pavkovic
reportedly threatened to sue the members of some political parties who had the
temerity to question the activities of the army.
That has to change, within the
framework of Boris Tadic’s agenda for wider military reform.
Change is long overdue. One parliamentarian’s view is this:
The military needs … to be de-ideologised. We want to have soldiers who do
not interfere with politics. A factor that really blocks the reforms is that the old
military generals are still in power.
These ‘old generation’ high-ranking
generals were involved in party politics to such an extent during the Milosevic
era that it is high time to replace them with another generation of young men
who think differently.
That may now be happening. Appointments in the wake of the SDC’s mid-2003
purge will be worth watching.
As for legislative oversight, elected representatives, the same observer thinks, should
initiate ‘an open debate about the future of the armed forces without secrecy.
Secondly, we, the parliamentarians, should be cleverer in our dealings with reforms.
We have to put forward our own strategy, objectives and plans in a more intelligent
manner.’ Whether the evolution of the institutions of the state union will now be
conducive to such assertiveness is an open question.
Something else will have to change before lawmakers act energetically (in our view),
namely the basis on which deputies hold their seats in the unicameral Parliament of
the state union. In the FRY members were elected on a 'party list' system. If an
individual refused to toe the party line on a policy or financial issue – or otherwise
rejected party discipline – he or she could be expelled from the faction and in those
circumstances lose his or her entitlement to sit in the legislature. Lacking security of
tenure, MPs were thus disinclined to voice 'independent' opinions and the quality of
discussion (such as it was) suffered accordingly.
3. Transparency : on policy and money…
To accompany effort to establish accountability ‘clear-cut legislation requiring
transparency’ is fundamental. In South-Eastern Europe as a whole the public’s ‘right
to know’ is not universally accepted – it is not part of the political culture – and
therefore needs to be explicitly acknowledged as both an executive obligation and
the legislature’s entitlement. Nowhere is this more true than in Serbia and
Montenegro.
The ‘transparency deficit’ of the FRY in the budget context has been noted earlier. In
establishing policy and practice for Serbia and Montenegro that problem clearly
needs to be addressed. There are instances of ‘good practice’ in the neighbourhood
that invite emulation – Bulgaria’s ‘new model’ budget arrangements, for example –
but it is difficult to imagine the state-union progressing, in the couple of years before
its prolongation/termination dominates political discourse, to anything approaching
that level of openness and wealth of information. Perhaps the appropriate course is
to map a ‘road to transparency’ – with attainable milestones – using lessons learned
from others’ experience but not attempting to adopt, or even adapt, some single
external model. The background, the conditions, the challenge here are all unique
(see Chapter Thirteen below.)
Substituting a ‘transparency culture’ for the ‘legacy’ secretiveness of the defence
hierarchy and the military is a massive challenge. Two things need to happen as
soon as possible.
The first is a categorical assertion that refusal to testify before oversight committees
and refusal to answer legitimate requests for information are simply unacceptable.
The Federal Assembly of Yugoslavia eventually changed its Rules of Parliamentary
Procedure to strengthen the functions of all committees and to introduce for the first
time the obligation of the line minister to report to the competent committee at least
twice a year (see previous section). That is a start. 'Secondary legislation' for the
new state-union should go further, on the basis that the members of the popularlyelected Assembly must be not ‘completely out of the picture’ but at the very heart of
the political action.
The second requirement is somehow to get regular executive-legislature relations –
and especially military-legislature relations – on a completely new footing.
To
change a military mind-set conditioned by years of devotion to regime security is
difficult. So countries have in the past resorted to ‘lustration’ in various guises. That
is what has begun to happen recently in Serbia and Montenegro.
It could be
complemented by adoption of the Romanian practice of making ‘congressional
relations’ the responsibility of a senior politician; and requiring government
departments, including the defence ministry, to create a small office for parliamentary
liaison.
4. …and Publications
The powers that be in Belgrade (and Podgorica) would also be well advised to look at
regional ‘good practice’ in the matter of regular publications elucidating what the
government does and what it spends in the name of national security.
An inaugural Defence White Paper should be produced under the 'new' country's
emblem. Macedonia’s pioneering text (1998) illustrates what might be possible in the
relatively short term. Bulgaria’s impressive bi-lingual document (2002) is an excellent
indication of what might be done in the longer run.
Commitment to issuing an annual Report on Defence and the Armed Forces is
another possibility that should be considered.
neighbourhood do this.
Several other states in the
Adopting the Romanian practice of requiring periodic
updating of core policy texts is yet another. A glance at the websites that several
countries have produced would not go amiss either (even though some have not
sustained their initial dedication to this medium). It should certainly be possible to
improve on the ‘old’ FRY’s abysmal record on publications. The same goes for public
information policy generally (where, again, Romania has much to teach).
5. International transparency
The American writer Mark Twain once advised: ‘if in doubt, do the right thing’. The
‘new’ Serbia and Montenegro should, from the outset, do ‘the right thing’ so far as
international transparency is concerned (something the ‘old’ FRY did not do, for
various and obvious reasons).
•
It must, of course, ratify the Dayton Peace Accords and start to fulfil its
(inherited) obligations under them.
•
It ought to participate fully in all the information-exchange arrangements that
form part of the OSCE’s confidence- and security-building regime, including
the submission of data on defence spending as specified in the 1999 Vienna
Document (VD99).
•
It should also subscribe to the Stability Pact-sponsored Budget Transparency
Initiative for the neighbourhood, and allow its VD99 input to be published in
the Yearbook on South-East European Defence Spending (with effect from
2003).
These are minimum requirements, in our opinion.
An all-round commitment to
openness about security and defence affairs would deliver more.
The FRY
successor-state will presumably want to show that, besides taking ‘Yugoslavia’ off
the map, the baggage of connotations the word carried – secretive, anti-democratic
governance and devious external politicking – have gone as well.
Conclusion
Serbia and Montenegro poses the general moving target(s) problem for transparency
profiling more sharply than most other South-East European countries. Hence this
hybrid essay.
For all sorts of reasons the old FRY took neither democratic accountability nor
security-sector transparency seriously. The new state must. The present leadership
is clearly in earnest about reform. It has begun the process of removing obstacles to
change. What it now needs to do is (a) formulate a concrete agenda for change and
(b) ensure that in making future appointments to key positions in the defence
organisation it selects individuals able to drive reform.
CHAPTER TWELVE
____________________________________________________
PERSPECTIVES
It is instructive now to view the material we have from a regional standpoint. Three
questions are of interest:
•
First, reflecting on the eight profiles in Part Two, are there general
observations that should be recorded about South-East European countries’
policy and practice with respect to transparency and accountability in the
conduct of defence affairs?
•
Secondly, looking at this evidence through the prisms of the basic democratic
theory outlined in Chapter Two (which is normative theory, of course), how do
the states compare in terms of ‘good practice’?
•
Thirdly, can one then rank the countries ‘on merit’ – on an ordinal scale, even
if no single cardinal measure commends itself – or at least categorise them?
A couple of supplementary questions are posed at the end of this analysis. How to
explain high (and low) standing? What distinguishes those states noteworthy for
‘good practice’ from the rest? We ask these because they are germane to our final
chapter’s examination of transparency building possibilities.
General Observations
Under the first heading, the ‘beneficiary’ states of the Stability Pact have one basic
thing in common, namely a declared commitment to practising democratic
accountability and promoting transparency in the conduct of their defence affairs (and
all other aspects of governance). Look beyond declaratory policy, though, and the
eight countries have very little in common. Although some states conscientiously,
and more or less consistently, practise what their constitutions and communiqués
preach, others clearly do not (or did not until relatively recently). Why?
Rhetoric and reality
In several instances the answer would appear to be straightforward cynicism. It is
important to say all the ‘right’ things in solemn statements of national values, but
there is no need to take any of this too seriously. The business of governments is to
govern, and govern effectively. It is neither necessary nor desirable that deference to
vaguely expressed obligations to ‘reveal, explain and justify’ should get in the way of
the efficient exercise of political power. That is undoubtedly how President Voronin
and his Party view things in Moldova. It is the basis upon which Milosevic – and, for
a long time, his successor – ran the ‘old’ FRY that is now Serbia and Montenegro. It
was the sentiment that prevailed in Tudjman’s Croatia and seems to have persisted
among the contending factions there. It is discernible in the day-to-day politics of
present-day Albania.
Elsewhere it might be more appropriate to speak of naϊveté, to capture those cases
where even generally astute politicians seem to have supposed that getting the ‘right’
language into basic legislation is more than half the democratic battle, and actual
implementation can be left to take care of itself. A variation on this theme is the
notion that there is value in a clear initial statement of aspirations even if ideas about
how to realise them have yet to be developed. Apposite here are the comments of
the reformer from Macedonia who thinks that the statement in that country’s
legislation of vague declaratory norms is inadequate. Both executive obligation and
legislative responsibility, this observer says, need to be stated explicitly, with detailed
provisions setting out who must do what, when and how. One of our correspondents
from Bulgaria is of the same opinion, noting that imprecision in the country’s statutes
confers considerable executive discretion and that, while exercised generously of
late, this is none the less open to abuse.
Perhaps administrative incompetence is a factor too in places. Constitutional and
statutory provisions are unexceptionable. There appears to be a will to put sound
procedures in place, but somehow they have not emerged. Until the Iliescu-NastasePascu triumvirate got a grip on affairs, this may have been the situation in Romania.
It may be part of the problem in Bosnia and Herzegovina still, allied to the numerous
limitations associated with the Dayton-mandated political structure and the defensive
mentalities of many political actors.
What the commentator perceives as inadequacies in attention to accountability and
insufficiency in provision for transparency may not, however, be the result of
governments’ wilful disregard of their executive obligation. On the whole, advocates
of accountability and torchbearers for transparency take the line that ‘more is better’
(always) and that wherever policy and practice fall short of their (usually ill-defined)
ideal, this warrants censure. That is not how top politicians see things, as a general
rule. From their perspective the issue is one of striking a balance between their
rightful exercise of legitimate authority on the one hand, the demands of democratic
accountability on the other.
Authority and Accountability
We have encountered this dilemma more than once in our national descriptions and
evaluations. Put simply, the argument runs as follows. An administration that has
been democratically elected has the population’s mandate to govern. It has been
awarded the authority to rule.
It is certainly subject to oversight by the elected
representatives of the people.
So it has a duty of accountability, and should
therefore – to use our favourite formulation – reveal, explain and justify its decisions.
This does not, however, imply an obligation to convey all the details of its day-to-day
business to the legislature, still less to seek approval for each and every action it
takes.
•
Even in dealing with major matters of policy and large items of expenditure,
ministers and their appointed officials (‘the authorities’) must have
considerable freedom of manoeuvre: they cannot be immediately accountable
for everything they do.
•
They must also have the right to withhold information about current business.
In the policy area this might mean details of courses of action under
consideration, of negotiations in train with other states, and so on. In the
budgetary field it would definitely have to cover tax and other revenue-raising
actions under consideration; and, on the spending side, imminent contract
awards or decisive market interventions. In short, there are important limits to
how much transparency there can be in the conduct of government affairs.
It is a real dilemma, and one that occurs – and recurs – in every political system: it is
certainly not a problem that has been solved in mature democracies.
The significance of this observation for present purposes is obvious. We should not
presume that in all circumstances ‘more is better’. Rather we should ask, about both
accountability and transparency, the question: ‘how much is enough?’
Military Security and Commercial Confidentiality
Within the defence field, judicious balance-striking is particularly important in two
specific areas: where ‘military security’ is involved and where considerations of
‘commercial confidentiality’ arise. In each area the potential for executive abuse is
considerable.
We expected to find evidence of such abuse throughout South-
Eastern Europe, because of official attitudes inherited from secretive ancien regimes
and because of the urge to conceal the consequences of nomenklatura privatisation
and other forms of dubious dealing. We did.
Inadmissible secrecy on grounds of military security is practised, in our book,
whenever information is withheld other than to safeguard details of:
•
the exact size of stocks of weapons and ammunition;
•
the precise performance characteristics of weapon systems, from which
technical strengths and weaknesses might be inferred;
•
operational aspects of the employment and deployment of weapons;
•
sensitive intelligence and sources thereof;
•
secure communications, including frequencies, encryption techniques and so
on.
So far as commercial confidentiality is concerned, enterprises have the right to data
protection regarding:
•
intellectual property (designs, patents etc.);
•
exact contract terms and conditions (during bidding and negotiation);
•
financial and other details of the business (where disclosure might harm its
trading prospects generally).
But there should be no catch-all determination that no commercial information can be
disclosed without companies’ consent. (In adopting these criteria we are for the most
part following the argument in the recent paper by Wim van Eekelen, Democratic
Control of Armed Forces: the National and International Parliamentary Dimension.1
Active and Passive Legislatures
It is apparent from our country essays that some elected chambers take their
legislative responsibility to hold government to account more seriously than others.
1
Wim van Eekelen, Democratic Control of Armed Forces: the National and International Parliamentary
Dimension, DCAF Occasional Paper, No. 2, (Geneva: DCAF, 2002).)
Likewise, some assert their ‘right to know’ about the administration’s business more
forcefully than others.
While invariably critical of assemblies that are little more than ‘voting machines’ and
of parliamentary commissions that are content to play a ‘rubber stamp’ role (usually
because the party-in-office dominates), we realise that the deliberately and
determinedly independent legislature is a comparatively rare phenomenon even in
well-established democracies. How to deal with ‘the tyranny of the majority’ is a
problem that has perplexed generations of political scientists.
Still, it is in the nature of our normative theory that it does not recognise the happy-tobe-passive parliamentarian, the individual who is evidently quite content to see
executive authority wielded robustly (see above). Nor can it easily accommodate the
related cult of the ‘expert’ that exists in some states, and explains their readiness to
appoint an administration of ‘technocrats’ whenever there is either a serious political
impasse or an acute economic crisis.
In other words it is no part of this audit exercise to appraise any South-East
European country’s policy and practice within the framework of the prevailing political
culture and conventions where these are clearly not conducive to transparent and
accountable governance. Hence our strictures about draconian party discipline (in
Moldova most emphatically, but also in Albania and Croatia); and about ‘party list’
electoral arrangements under which a deputy’s seat is forfeit if his or her
accreditation is withdrawn (as in Serbia and Montenegro, in FRY days, for example)
– arrangements which have essentially the same effect. Hence, also, our criticism of
lawmakers who, for whatever reason, are more comfortable not knowing very much
about what the executive is doing or how it is spending their constituents’ money (in
Bosnia and Herzegovina and in Macedonia, for instance).
Analysts and Auditors
Even if a country’s elected representatives themselves show no great enthusiasm for
doing their oversight duty, the parliamentary body may play a role nevertheless if its
commissions have able and diligent staff tasked to help it ‘shed light on power’ and
‘put to the question’ what the executive branch proposes. Further, the legislature can
fulfil this function institutionally, at least in terms of holding government accountable
ex post for its expenditures, if it is served by a competent, independent and
respected audit bureau. Also, in principle anyway, analysts – academics, think tank
personnel, journalists, interest groups, or even citizens acting in a private capacity –
can observe and comment on an administration’s conduct of affairs, prompting others
to press for change, if change appears called for, or maybe inducing some revision of
policy or resource allocation directly: a participative democracy is one in which civil
society has precisely such a voice in public affairs. (And that final clause indicates,
by the way, what we mean by ‘civil society’ and ‘voice’ in this investigation.)
The evidence of our inquiry, though, is that except in isolated instances none of the
above applies in South-Eastern Europe, at least not so far as defence affairs are
concerned. Few specialist defence committees have dedicated professional staff at
their disposal. Those that do are often served by retired military people whose inside
knowledge may be an advantage in certain circumstances (e.g. when it is necessary
to know where, metaphorically speaking, dirty linen or buried skeletons are to be
found) but a disadvantage in others (e.g. if out of loyalty or other motives the adviser
thinks that the dirty linen should not be washed in public or the skeletons are best left
undisturbed).
Alternatively staff may lack sufficient expertise and experience to
perform, or brief others to undertake, effective scrutiny. We have noted that, to
remedy this deficiency, the OSCE and other organisations offer ‘parliamentary
support’ services in several countries – in some instances targeting defence
committees – and that is obviously to be applauded.
However, we have also
observed that some of this activity appears ill-coordinated, that the quality of ‘support’
provided might not be very high (where, for example, the help made available is that
of temporary, part-time assistants or interns with limited military knowledge and
limited or zero training in the arts of scrutiny). Also it is not clear what will happen
when time-limited programmes terminate.
References to ‘capacity-building’ are
commonplace: but it is not at all certain that posts and practices will endure beyond
the lifetime of externally-funded effort.
As for audit offices, each of ‘our’ countries has one – in Bosnia and Herzegovina
(BiH) there are actually three – but none passes the ‘competent, independent, and
respected’ test (in our judgement). Practical steps to strengthen these bureaux are
one of the key transparency-building ‘possibilities’ recommended in Chapter Thirteen
below; and there are good reasons for that. No single organisation makes as great a
contribution to the cause of ‘honest government’ as a well-functioning audit office;
and nobody disputes that the promotion of ‘honest government’ should be a policy
priority throughout South-Eastern Europe. Developing competence is important
everywhere, because the function is almost without exception in the hands of very
young institutions:
the bureaux in BiH came into existence in 2000/1, the Audit
‘Palace’ in Bulgaria and the offices in several other places were created in the 1990s.
Independence is an issue, because the basic requirement that the professional
watchdogs on the executive should serve the legislative branch is not observed
everywhere. They do not even make a pretence of this in Moldova. It is not the case
in Macedonia, we understand. There are doubts about where the scrutineers’ loyalty
lies in Albania.
However, what is most unsatisfactory is the widespread lack of
respect for audit agencies, manifest in the casual attitude that executive bodies
demonstrate to investigations and the cavalier reaction to findings (to which there is
frequently no disciplinary or judicial follow-up). The organisations are simply not
taken seriously, it would appear, in Albania or BiH (not to mention Macedonia and
Moldova). In Croatia, we are informed, the elected chamber does at least take note
of what the office has to say, but that is the end of the matter. This is what seems to
happen in Serbia and Montenegro too. It may be what happens some of the time,
perhaps a lot of the time, in Romania also. (The sometimes tentative judgements
here reflect the fact that in the present study we have not been able to probe the
operation of audit offices, or examine follow-up action, as thoroughly as we would
have liked. The institutions actually require, and deserve, some dedicated in-depth
research.)
Finally, on ‘analysts’ – in non-governmental organisations (NGOs) and elsewhere –
and the institutions of ‘civil society’ generally across South-Eastern Europe, our
summary observation is that they make a modest contribution to democratic
accountability in certain countries, but that is all. There are reputable NGOs that pay
some attention to defence affairs in each of the Stability Pact ‘beneficiary’ states
under review.
However, they struggle for quality staff and adequate funds
everywhere, with the exception of one or two government-resourced ‘independent’
NGOs – ‘GRINGOs’, some call them – who may bark critically now and then but are
careful not to bite the hand that feeds them. In some places, like Chisinau, the very
existence of ‘advocates of accountability and torchbearers for transparency’ is
probably perilous. In the region’s universities, there are a handful of departments
devoted to teaching and research on national and regional security – notably the one
that bears that title at one of Sofia’s colleges – but they are few and far between and
they do not, and realistically cannot, deliver enough well-informed and insightful
material to sustain the kind of debate about security policy and provision that is taken
for granted in the United States and occurs from time to time in Western Europe.
The same goes for defence journalism: high-calibre correspondents are a rare breed;
and, as a general rule, the media sit up and take notice when they scent a security
crisis or a whiff of scandal but otherwise are content to let the military’s sleeping dogs
lie.
‘Good Practice’
The foregoing ‘general observations’ stress shortcomings; but there is ‘ good
practice’ in South-East Europe as well. Indeed we noted in Part Two that in some
countries and in some respects provision for accountability and attention to
transparency even compare favourably with arrangements in some mature
democracies.
This is certainly the case so far as international transparency is concerned. With a
few exceptions the Stability Pact (SP) ‘beneficiary’ states not only subscribe to the
OSCE’s Confidence- and Security-Building Measures (CSBMs) regime but also
honour their obligations under it. By and large information is exchanged as required
by the Vienna Document of 1999 (VD 99), and where it is not it is sometimes
because the reporting state does not have the facts and figures it is asked to share
rather than because it is deliberately withholding information. This appears to be the
case with the politically-binding obligation to share data on defence outlays, budgets
and forward expenditure plans (to which we attach particular importance). A number
of states were conscientious subscribers from the start of the process: of late,
formerly ‘delinquent’ countries have come into line or have promised to do so as
soon as they can.
The ‘politically-binding obligation’ is, of course, to share information with other
governments.
Encouragingly, the SP signatories have recently indicated a
willingness to go further and place their financial information in the public domain. A
handful did this by submitting their VD99 data for inclusion in the Yearbook on SouthEast European Defence Spending published in 2002. More will be represented in the
follow-on 2003 Yearbook (in preparation). In fact the small group in Sofia who are
gathering and collating submissions hope that this second edition will carry entries
from each of the eight countries covered by the present inquiry.
This is a small triumph for the SP-supported Budget Transparency Initiative (BTI)
under which the compilation and publication exercise has been conducted.
Furthermore, before long we should see a companion volume to the annual
compendium of data, namely a Survey of South-East European Defence Budgeting
Systems. Work on this was begun in late-2002. The document will render another
service to informational transparency, shedding light on how national resource
allocation processes work, to complement the material on budgetary outcomes. Nor
is this the only context in which ‘our’ South-East European States are laying their
defence affairs open to international observation.
Those taking part in NATO’s
Partnership for Peace (PfP) venture do so under the terms of that arrangement. The
countries preparing for accession to NATO, following the rigorous Membership Action
Plan (MAP) procedure, do so through the detailed Annual National Programmes
(ANPs) that they present to the Brussels Headquarters as part of this discipline.
We attach importance to international transparency and recognise its value in helping
build trust in South-Eastern Europe.
We set even greater store by domestic
transparency, however, because it is the guarantor of accountability, and because
accountability is central to good democratic governance. Of course the two should
go together. Sometimes, though, they do not. We noted in our country profiles three
or four instances where governments seem more relaxed about informing other
governments (and international organisations) about their defence business than
about informing their own legislatures, civil society institutions and the population-atlarge. It should not be like that. Accordingly we have steadfastly refrained from
applauding states that reveal more to foreigners than they do to their own people.
Placing domestic transparency above international transparency is something we
carry through to thought about transparency building. The reason is simple. Take
care of domestic transparency and international transparency will take care of itself.
(If it does not, embassies – and especially defence attachés – are not doing their
job.) The reverse is not true: not all information communicated to external recipients
finds its way readily to domestic audiences.
What, then, of domestic ‘good practice’? Where among the SP ‘beneficiary’ states
do we find it, and where not? What are the headline conclusions of Chapters Four to
Eleven in this regard?
Culture
Evidence of an emerging transparency culture in defence affairs can be found in two
of our eight countries, namely the soon-to-be NATO members, Bulgaria and
Romania. Hints that such a culture may be beginning to emerge can be found in the
three would-be NATO members, viz. Croatia, Macedonia, and, if you look very
carefully, Albania. They are discernible too in Bosnia and Herzegovina.
There is still a strong disposition to secrecy about defence in Serbia and Montenegro,
even though signs that this might be receding were starting to appear in the last days
of the old FRY and there have been more as the leadership of the new state-union
has got to grips with security-sector reform generally. In Moldova, secrecy rules in
both Chisinau and Tiraspol (especially the latter). In the early 2000s it may even
have taken a stronger hold than before.
It is necessary, however, to look beyond these generalities if we wish to expose the
presence or absence of ‘good practice’ (strictly defined).
On that, the relevant
evidence lies in the procedural details summarised in our country profiles.
Policy accountability
Under this heading there are some stark comparisons. First, how the PresidentParty-Parliament nexus in Moldova (Chisinau) operates makes nonsense of our
normative theory.
There is nothing here resembling a two-way relationship: an
executive obligation to reveal, explain and justify policy and a legislative responsibility
to require the powers-that-be to do that. Politics is one-way traffic, in military matters
as elsewhere.
Not so, however, in neighbouring Romania where what has evolved of late
epitomises ‘good practice’. When the political leadership changes there must be new
security and defence policy statements.
In the refinement of policy – especially
where legislation is involved – elected representatives are actively engaged, and
there is a State Secretary at the Ministry of National Defence (MND) whose business
it is to see that they are well informed. Annual reports to the legislature elucidate
policy implementation. There is, or has been lately, an active policy discourse in the
country.
It is almost as good as this in Bulgaria. The statutes are less explicit about when the
executive must ‘refresh’ policy, but recent administrations have done so
conscientiously, and have consulted widely in the process of reshaping the national
defences.
(In conducting the pre-NATO accession ‘strategic defence review’
underway as this is written the authorities are paying particular attention to such
consultations.) There is routine annual reporting to the National Assembly as well.
The day-to-day executive-legislature relationship is not so consciously managed as
in Romania, and there have been occasional tussles on the ‘authority versus
accountability’ issue, but there is no lack of two-way traffic in Sofia.
None of the other South-East European countries has security and defence policy
accountability as well organised as these two. Elsewhere executives interpret their
democratic obligation narrowly, or acknowledge it formally and leave it at that.
Elected representatives take a narrow view of what fulfilling their domestic
responsibility requires or exercise legislative oversight in a pro forma fashion.
Financial Accountability
With money, it is different. In all political systems that claim to be democratic the
people’s representatives wield ‘the power of the purse’ however nominally.
The
executive must request the funds it needs to do the business of government, the
legislature formally votes the money or makes the necessary appropriations. This
happens before any cash is spent: there is ex ante accountability, on the basis of a
budget.
The executive must also report on how it has used voted funds or
appropriations, to satisfy elected representatives that money has been used as
intended. This happens after spending: there is ex post accountability, on the basis
of audited accounts.
So much is universal; and it is what is done across South-Eastern Europe: from
Croatia to Moldova, from Albania to Serbia and Montenegro. (Also, it is what is done
with respect to all public spending, civil and military.)
The analyst’s interest is in how it is done; and particularly in how well it is done, in
terms of the normative theory outlined earlier (Chapter Two) and the appraisal
template derived therefrom (Chapter Three).
Proceeding thus, what constitutes
‘good practice’ in the defence field is assessed by considering, among other things,
•
whether the executive’s request for funds arises from a systematic approach
to planning, programming and budgeting for defence;
•
how much information the budget contains, and whether it is possible to see
what money is to be used for, and why;
•
how long the legislature has to consider the budget request and hear
explanations and justifications;
•
whether eventual approval or endorsement by the elected chamber(s) is a
considered act or a meaningless ritual.
These are the matters of interest ex ante, when the budget is the focus of attention.
Others are of interest ex post, when final accounts are presented, viz.
•
whether the official submission carries a certification that money has indeed
been used as parliament intended;
•
whether that certification is provided by a competent, independent and
respected audit office;
•
whether evidence that there has been improper accounting and/or
misappropriation of funds leads to disciplinary and/or legal action.
Nowadays ‘good practice’ also extends to cover not only the identification and
correction of illegality, as revealed by ‘traditional’ audit inquiry, but also remedial
action where there has been manifest inefficiency, as revealed by value-for-money
audit work.
Applying these tests, the evidence of Chapters Six to Nine points to generally
unambiguous, and unsurprising, conclusions.
quickly.
One of these can be disposed of
Moldova goes through the motions of financial accountability.
The
procedure is perfunctory ex ante, and perverted ex post (if the state audit bureau is
indeed used as our sources say it is).
The machinery is seriously flawed in Serbia and Montenegro (or at least the old
FRY’s was). That is also the case in Albania and in Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH) in
different ways and for different reasons. In these three countries the ‘parliamentary
support’ programmes of the OSCE and others should, in the medium term, enable
elected representatives to be more effective in holding governments to account, and
the authorities will undoubtedly change their ways under this pressure. Progress
would be quicker if governments would themselves embrace reform. They might: in
Serbia and Montenegro, as part of institution-building for the new state-union; in
Albania, responding to MAP-feedback from NATO; in BiH, once force reduction,
restructuring and rationalisation have run their course and the business of building
forces for BiH as a whole can begin. There are encouraging straws in the wind: but
also sceptics around saying ‘Don’t hold your breath’.
Similarly, in Croatia and Macedonia there are currents running in the direction of
better practice than that reported in Chapters Seven and Eight, and some ‘advocates
of accountability and torchbearers for transparency’ eager to go with this flow.
Change is imminent, we think. The MAP-discipline will be one factor helping to bring
it about, in both states. In Croatia, another may be the country’s emergence from the
shadow of the Tudjman years, resulting in less factional in-fighting among politicians,
a less strident ‘clash of institutions’, and less deference to the uniformed military as
the deliverers of liberation. In Macedonia, the imperative of fashioning a new politics
of inclusion should have its effect.
For the time being, though, only the two countries that have experienced years of
MAP-discipline and embraced reform some time ago win plaudits for ‘good practice’
in the public finance of defence. In this respect, Bulgaria and Romania deserved the
preference in Prague that brought them their invitations to join NATO.
Provision for financial accountability is not identical in the two states. However, our
investigation confirms the following:
•
Each country has a coherent defence planning, programming and budgeting
system up and running. Opinions differ as to which is better. Experts from
the US Institute for Defence Analyses who have studied and evaluated both
think the Romanian may be marginally superior.
Other independent
observers think that the Bulgarians’ set-up is the better or will be when some
remaining practical problems have been ironed out.
•
In each country the executive produces and presents to its legislature an
informative defence budget, within a clear programme structure and showing
resource allocation to both inputs and outputs, and with explanatory material.
Bulgaria decided to present, from 2002, a multi-year budget – the first covers
2003/5 – with a wealth of supporting information. This has set a standard for
South-Eastern Europe (see Chapter Thirteen below).
•
In each country elected representatives get as much time for budget
consideration as the parliamentary calendar allows.
inadequate, but that is a complaint all legislatures make.
The period is
•
In neither country is passing the budget the ‘rubber-stamping’ ritual that it is in
some other states (though time constraints and some deputies’ limited
knowledge preclude in-depth scrutiny).
•
In each country an audit office certifies defence accounts and the elected
chamber(s) take(s) note of its reservations.
(Neither country, though,
consistently punishes wrongdoing.)
This is as good as it gets among the SP ‘beneficiary’ states. At the same time, policy
and practice vis-à-vis defence finance in Bulgaria and Romania are not flawless.
There are reform possibilities here as elsewhere (on which more later).
Transparency
There is more in this book as a whole about accountability than about transparency
per se. For good reason: in its domestic manifestation transparency is important
because – and, really, only because – it underpins accountability. ‘Seeing’ how the
business of government is conducted – in defence affairs and generally – is not a
spectator sport but a necessary feature of democratic governance, in which
accountability plays the pivotal role.
It follows that we assess ‘good practice’ in
relation to transparency in this spirit. Where, and to what extent, does the ‘right to
know’ have to be respected, and information made available, not to satisfy idle
curiosity but to serve democracy?
‘To what extent’ poses a minor difficulty. Interpreting our basic fenestration metaphor
strictly, either it is possible to see through the window on government or it is not.
Either you have transparency or you don’t. This is obviously too restrictive. We have
to be able to differentiate among countries, and the same country at different times,
acknowledging that there are degrees of transparency.
For the purpose of differentiation we have a ready-made tool in the categorisation of
‘security planning systems’ that Daniel Nelson outlined to the DCAF-sponsored Sofia
symposium in 2001 (see Preface and Chapter One) and later elaborated. Nelson
says, as we have done in Chapter Two, that such systems may be transparent,
translucent or opaque.2
2
See Daniel Nelson, ‘Beyond Defence Planning’, Paper presented at the Workshop on ‘Transparency in
Defence Policy, Military Budgeting and Procurement’, Sofia, 17-20 May 2001, available at
http://www.dcaf.ch/publications/E-Packages/ws_transp/ws_transp_papers/nelson.pdf
Transparent systems are described and commended as follows (in Nelson’s postSofia text):
To see into and through deliberations that eventuate in resource allocation for
armed forces and all security structures is essential, for nascent democracies
and for long-in-the-tooth democracies alike.
One does not need to see
everything in order for transparency to exist. Yet, to the degree that specific
programs or activities on which human and financial resources are being
spent are concealed, the normative bases of democracy are violated, and the
pragmatic needs of security planners (to know and have their constituencies
know what they are doing and why) are ignored.3
‘Transparency does not imply’, he goes on, ‘simply announcing and broadcasting
everything’. It does, though, entail ‘procedural visibility and clarity’ without which ‘the
process quickly reverts to byzantine rites and holy writ:’
Translucent systems offer ‘glimpses and outlines, never details’, Nelson
continues, while ‘[o]paque systems hide most of the national security planning
process.’
He then adds, crucially, that ‘there are many points on this
spectrum and these three points only illustrate a much larger phenomenon
whereby
open,
limited
and
closed
security-planning
differentiated…in part by their degree of accountability.
systems
are
4
Ignoring the conflation of accountability and transparency that Nelson seems to be
making here, this is our perspective exactly; and we can define, broadly, a round
half-dozen ‘points on this spectrum’ for use in our South-Eastern European
evaluation.
We can characterise states as: (1) wholly transparent, (2) fairly
transparent, (3) partially transparent, (4) translucent, (5) partially translucent and (6)
opaque.
Whether Moldova’s policy-making, planning, programming and budgeting for defence
should be assessed as completely opaque or partially translucent is a matter that
might be debated. Suffice it to say that in Voronin’s Chisinau (reportedly) decision-
3
4
Nelson, ‘Beyond’, ibid.
Nelson, ‘Beyond’, ibid.
making is an activity that takes place mainly in closed rooms, and reversion to
‘byzantine rites and holy writ’ is at least suspected.
Fairly transparent would be the right description for policy and practice in Romania
and Bulgaria, on the evidence we have seen.
Not ‘wholly transparent’ because
neither in Bucharest nor Sofia are the authorities totally open about the conduct of
defence affairs. This is certainly the case in the equipment acquisition area: witness
the helicopter-purchase affair that rocked the Romanian capital not so long ago, and
Bulgaria’s 2002 MIG-29 refurbishment controversy. It is the case so far as some
other resource allocation issues are concerned: not all key facts and figures are
automatically made available. Even in recent defence restructuring, neither elected
representatives, nor analysts, nor the media – and certainly not ordinary citizens –
have been able to ‘see into and through deliberations’ completely and continuously.
Capturing the degree of transparency that characterises the conduct of business in
Bosnia and Herzegovina is difficult.
In Chapter Five we said that ‘international
presences and pressures’ ensure that information about defence dispositions is fairly
plentiful.
Decision-making processes in the entities, however, are only partially
transparent at best, and often only translucent (yielding ‘glimpses and outlines’ in
Daniel Nelson’s language). The same applies, for different reasons in Macedonia,
though here we think the system is offering progressively more glimpses and more
than outlines, becoming at least partially transparent all round.
The temptation to hedge is very strong also regarding the two large ex-Yugoslav
states, Croatia and Serbia and Montenegro.
Translucent is perhaps the most
satisfactory compromise designation, in both cases, though it probably does less
than justice to Zagreb and, arguably, flatters Belgrade (and Podgorica).
As for Albania, bearing in mind that it is not the face the country shows to
international organisations that concerns us here, partially translucent is the point on
the spectrum that fits best, we think. Influencing this judgement are the phrases a
knowledgeable correspondent uses: that the country is still en route to ’making
transparency part of the culture and behaviour’ of the polity; that the executive ‘has
not created yet [a pattern of] institutional behaviour concerning the engagement of
parliamentarians’; and ‘there is still not an institutionalised and real consultation and
involvement process’. In sum, Nelson’s ‘procedural visibility and clarity’ are lacking.
Also, governments are parsimonious with defence-related information.
That said,
Albania is not Moldova: the country is ‘edging in the right direction’ – our phrase, in
Chapter Four – and not stuck in a time warp as the former Soviet republic appears to
be.
In fact, increasing transparency is evident throughout South-Eastern Europe, except
in Moldova. That is because in seven of the eight SP ‘beneficiary’ states they are
working on it.
As they should.
‘Transparency does not simply happen’, Daniel
Nelson says, ‘it must be assiduously pursued’.
Publications
As stated in each of our eight country essays, one indicator of the earnest pursuit of
transparency is the authorities’ commitment to regular publications about what they
are doing and what they are spending. On the face of it, appraisal here ought to be
straight-forward.
Actually it is not, mainly because the quality of official material varies greatly.
Published statements on policy and programmes may be genuinely informative or not
much more than public relations exercises. Websites may offer access to facts,
figures and important documents or they may contain little more than formal mission
statements, staff directory material and the leadership’s latest speeches.
Still, we know ‘good practice’ when we see it, here as elsewhere. We see it in
Bulgaria, where the bi-lingual Defence White Paper (plus CD-ROM) issued in 2002 is
a model of its kind and some good popular pamphlets have appeared lately. We saw
it in Macedonia in the late 1990s, in the form of a reader-friendly White Paper and
user-friendly web pages that provided a striking demonstration of what even a small
state can do when it puts its mind to it. We have seen it in Romania over the years,
albeit more in documents aimed at outside audiences than in material for home
consumption. We have seen it occasionally (but rarely) in Croatia, and more in oneoff publications from semi-official sources than in regular material from the
government.
For the rest – Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Moldova, Serbia and Montenegro
(ex-FRY) – the picture is bleaker.
Unless we and our informants are missing
something, in these countries elected representatives, other civil society bodies and
the public-at-large are poorly served.
Rank or categorise?
The third question on this chapter’s agenda is: on the basis of the preceding section’s
comparative assessments of ‘good practice’ can one rank the eight countries ‘on
merit’ or at least categorise them in some way?
It is worth trying. Our investigation is a transparency audit of South-Eastern Europe
with respect to defence affairs, having value in its own right as a snapshot of policy
and practice in 2002. It would be helpful if that could be encapsulated in a single
measure of merit for each state.
The exercise has also been undertaken with replication in mind: a follow-on inquiry
in, say, 2005 by which progress towards greater transparency and accountability
might be gauged. If we are interested in transparency building – and we are – an
evaluation such as the present one establishes a datum: this is where we begin, this
is what we are building on. It ought to be followed after an interval – and three years
does not seem an unreasonable or impractical one – by a repeat performance, to
permit an assessment of what has been accomplished.
But, how to measure accomplishment? We need that single measure of merit, a
composite indicator of how good (or bad) things are now, as a point of reference for
any future repeat calculation. (Moreover, recalling discussion in Part One, if we can
devise a ‘composite indicator’ for use in South-Eastern Europe, we may have not
only a basis for cross-national and inter-temporal comparison within this region but
also a tool of wider applicability.)
One thing is immediately obvious. In dealing with ‘transparency and accountability’
we are not dealing with a simple attribute, like height or weight or wealth, which
comes with its own conventional units of objective and cardinal measurement.
Rather, we have a complex quality or property, like beauty or comfort or reliability
(actually a pair), where assessment is inherently subjective (‘in the eye of the
beholder’), can only be ordinal (A more than B, X less than Y), and is necessarily
synthetic (combining many attributes, and therefore not capable of expression in
conventional units like metres/feet, kilograms/pounds or Euros/dollars).
Ranking
This kind of problem is not, however, totally intractable. Others have grappled with
variants of it, and found solutions. These may evoke reservations, but they are not
ridiculous. Two are worth comment:
First, the organisation Transparency International – based in Germany, but with
offices (‘chapters’) worldwide – has made it its business to assess corruption around
the globe. Its ranking of states, based on many observers’ evaluations of numerous
variables, is widely respected even though sometimes disputed.
Secondly, the World Bank Institute (WBI) has developed – under a ‘Governance and
Anti-Corruption’ rubric – a family of what it calls governance indicators, also with
global coverage.
One of them is ‘voice and accountability’.
These indicators
constitute a ‘measure of merit’ for more than 150 countries, expressed not in
absolute terms but by reference to the country’s standing in the world. They are ‘a
statistical compilation of perceptions of the quality of governance of a large number
of country respondents…as well as non-governmental organisations, commercial risk
rating agencies and think-tanks’ (World Bank website, emphasis added).
The WBI work is of special interest because the general ‘voice and accountability’
indicator relates to aspects of good governance similar to those our own exercise
covers, with particular reference to defence. Moreover, the WBI’s ‘Eastern Europe
region’ comprises seven of the eight states that we have investigated. The Institute’s
2001 ranking of these seven is shown in the accompanying table below.
Percentile
Country*
Ranking
Bulgaria
69.0
Romania
66.7
Croatia
66.1
Macedonia
55.2
Albania
54.0
FRY
48.9
BiH
42.0
*(Had Moldova been included it would have been bottom of the list.)
The ‘percentile rank’ measure is easily explained. It indicates the percentage of
countries worldwide that rate below the named country. Thus in the table here ‘our’
countries are listed from ‘best’ to ‘worst’. The line item for Albania says that an
estimated 54 per cent of the 150-plus countries covered by the statistical test rate
worse than Albania, an estimated 46 per cent rate better, on the global ‘voice and
accountability’ index. (For more on the WBI research method, see D. Kaufmann, A.
Kraay and P. Zoido-Lobaton, Government Matters, Policy Research Working Paper
2.196 (World Bank, October 1999); and, for the figures tabulated here, the update
Government Matters II (World Bank, March 2002).)
Obviously, the effort involved in both Transparency International’s undertaking and
the World Bank’s work far surpasses anything that could be done to yield similar
numerical rankings for our purpose.
In any event it is not at all certain that a
‘statistical compilation of perceptions’ of transparency and accountability, in the
conduct of defence affairs, in a handful of countries, is the kind of composite indicator
that best meets our need.
Categorising
How else, though, to deal with a (composite) ‘complex quality or property, like beauty
or comfort or reliability’, for which only subjective, ordinal and synthetic assessment
is possible? The answer is: by opting not for numerical ranking but for qualitative
categorisation. There are many areas in which this technique is used. It must suffice
to comment on a couple: one familiar, one perhaps not so well known.
The familiar application is in evaluating – subjectively, and on the basis of many
attributes – the standing of hotels and restaurants. Assessors (or inspectors) award
‘star’ ratings.
Complex though the appraisal they must perform may be, they
succeed in encapsulating it in a composite indicator of merit. To all who wish to
know about the quality of food and drink, shelter and service (hospitality) that
different establishments offer, this serves to indicate what they can expect and,
incidentally, what they should not expect. It is also an indicator that can alter or be
altered: hotels can be upgraded from, say, the three-star category to four-star (and
vice versa, of course); restaurants may gain or lose ‘stars’ or knife and fork symbols
or whatever.
We can categorise the SP ‘beneficiary’ states of South-Eastern Europe similarly, with
respect to defence-sector transparency and accountability, using the comparative
assessments of ‘good practice’ in the preceding section of this chapter. Alternatively,
think of Part Two’s profiles as inspector’s reports: their translation into a
differentiating categorisation is essentially the same as the procedure that the
experts of Michelin or Gault-Millau practice with consummate professionalism. (They
create controversy too, of course, but that does not invalidate the method.)
Neither the analogy nor the argument needs taking further. Clearly ‘the Michelin
method’ is an option at our disposal. However, it has a couple of drawbacks. The
less important is that it might be perceived as frivolous – transparency and
accountability ‘star’
ratings, indeed – even if appropriate symbols were chosen
(magnifying glasses, perhaps). The more important is that if, following practice in the
hospitality sector, there were only six grade categories available (0-5), then it might
be thought that insufficient differentiation were possible.
The maybe lesser-known application of a grading scheme is what we might term ‘the
S&P method’: the convention in the financial sector of rating the debt instruments of
country and corporate borrowers on the basis of credit risk (broadly assessed), a
business in which one of the leading practitioners is the Standard & Poor’s agency
(S&P).
(The other is Moody’s: but the S&P investment categories are easier to
understand. See ‘World Bond Prices’ in the Financial Times.)
Taking many factors into account, the S&P appraisers place bonds and borrowers in
one of four main categories (A-D), with all ‘global investment grade’ stock located in
the A or B categories. However, within each level of this quality hierarchy securities
are designated A, AA, or AAA (‘Triple A’), B, BB, BBB and so on, creating a nominal
10 ratings, since D is for ‘default’. (In fact there are more than this. Assessors have
the option of provisionally annotating a designation (+) or (-), increasing possible
gradings threefold, but the privilege is used sparingly.)
By way of illustration, an early-2003 listing of governments’ bonds included the
borrowings tabulated here:
Country
Redemption
Rating
Argentine
03/05
D
Bulgaria
07/11
BB
Canada
11/05
AAA
Italy
09/23
AA
Poland
02/11
BBB+
Turkey
06/10
B-
UK
01/03
AAA
Needless to say ratings may change, depending on the political and economic
circumstances and prospects of the bond-issuer (borrower), and there are many
reasons why that might occur. These are complex, multi-dimensional indicators of
‘merit’ (as the sovereign debt specialists see it). Moreover, there is nothing frivolous
about this business. Upgrading is celebrated, downgrading bemoaned.
The reason for this exposition is self-evident. ‘The S&P method’ points to the sort of
composite indicator – the single encapsulating ‘measure of merit’ – that we need for
our transparency audit. Taking all the factors reviewed in our country profiles into
account, and the comparative assessments of ‘good practice’ (and not-so-good
practice) that we have made, we can place the eight countries surveyed into one of
four transparency and accountability categories (A-D), and differentiate – like the
S&P experts – within these.
In practice this means giving each of the several dimensions of transparency and
accountability that we have distinguished what amounts to a component rating, using
the same categorisation technique.
These elements can then be combined or
aggregated to produce the overall grading. (There is a weighting problem here, of
course. However, since quality assessment is subjective anyhow, it can be accepted
that gauging whether some elements therein are more important than others can be
dealt with similarly.)
It would be time- and space-consuming, and repetitive and tiresome, to go through
rating derivations for each of the eight countries covered by this study.
The
technique should be demonstrated, however. So two illustrative cases – one full, one
abbreviated – are shown overleaf.
In each example, the complete supporting
argument is in the relevant country profile and the preceding section of this chapter.
These are illustrative cases, and the summary remarks are not meant to be more
precise than the more detailed descriptions and evaluations in Chapter Seven
(Croatia) and Chapter Ten (Romania). But they serve our explanatory purpose.
This is ‘the S&P method’ adapted for our requirements. Using it, we have arrived at
the 2002 country categorisations set out in the one-page supplement to this chapter.
That tabulation summarises our eight-country evaluation of policy and practice with
respect to defence-sector transparency and accountability in South-Eastern Europe,
our ‘transparency audit’ of the region. For presentational convenience the gradings
are called ‘Transparency (TRANS) and Accountability (ACCT) Ratings’ or
TRANSACCT Ratings for short.
Towards transparency building
As stated in the introduction to this book, there are no surprises in our findings, as
now summarised in the tabulation of TRANSACCT ratings.
It is none the less
instructive to consider the supplementary questions raised at the beginning of this
chapter. How to explain high (or low) standing? What distinguishes those states
noteworthy for ‘good practice’ from the rest? Fundamentally, of course, the answers
are to be found in the facts – and the interpretations of the facts – in our eight country
profiles, the heart of the study. To say this, though, simply prompts another question.
Why are those facts as they are?
The ‘S&P Method’: Illustrative Cases
Case One: Romania
Policy Accountability. Arrangements good. Executive obligation to ‘reveal, explain
and justify’ acknowledged and fulfilled, likewise the counterpart legislative
responsibility.
Through recent policy evaluation and programme decisions,
executive-legislature relations very good. Public information taken seriously. (Main
question: now NATO accession secured, will it last?)
[‘Component’ Rating (CR): AA-]
Financial Accountability. Arrangements good. Executive obligation to ‘reveal, explain
and justify’ acknowledged and fulfilled, likewise counterpart legislative responsibility.
Through latest programming and budgeting, executive-legislature relations good.
Active audit bureau. (Main questions: will it last? Audit follow-up?)
[CR: AA-]
Domestic Transparency.
Effectively institutionalised in both policy and financial
areas. Fairly high procedural visibility all round, except on equipment acquisition.
Fairly good publications.
(Main questions: better international than domestic?
Opaque spots/corruption?)
[CR: AA-]
International Transparency.
Very good. Politically-binding obligations honoured,
supportive of regional initiatives. Good publications for ‘outside’ audiences.
[CR: AA]
Overall Rating: AAMeaning ‘firmly in the first grade (AA), but question-marks (-)’.
Case Two: Croatia
Policy Accountability.
Arrangements fair. ‘Clash of institutions’ problem, and
‘improvisations’. Legislative oversight largely pro forma. Little public information
effort.
[CR: BB]
Financial Accountability.
Arrangements fair.
‘Clash of institutions’
problem and
‘improvisations’. Legislative oversight largely pro forma. Satisfactory audit work, but
no follow-on.
[CR: BB]
Domestic Transparency. Fair, but not yet institutionalised. Not so good procedural
visibility, especially regarding procurement. Poor publications.
[CR: CCC]
International Transparency. Fairly good in OSCE-CSBMs and BTI. Few publications
for ‘outside’ audiences.
[CR: BBB]
Overall rating: BB
Meaning ‘firmly in the second grade (BB)’.
Notes to Illustrative Cases
Here it is surely significant that it is the soon-to-be NATO members (and ahead-ofthe others EU aspirants), Bulgaria and Romania, who came out of the audit best, in
the A-grade. Furthermore, the countries that have been participating in monitored
preparation for NATO accession – the Membership Action Plan (MAP) process –
namely Albania and Macedonia (since 1999) and Croatia (since 2002), are among
the best of the rest.
In other words we find the greatest transparency and accountability in the conduct of
defence affairs in those states that have been engaged in focused effort to meet
NATO’s expectations and requirements – concerning ‘democratic-style civil-military
relations’ and good governance generally – and have been encouraged and helped
in that by the Organisation itself and by individual member-states.
Perhaps this is a ‘blinding glimpse of the obvious’ or something that has been
intuitively self-evident for a while. It is nevertheless something that should clearly
influence consideration of transparency-building possibilities (the subject of the next
and final chapter of this work). It is focused effort and assisted effort that has brought
South-Eastern Europe’s best to where they are now; and it is what is most likely to
sustain the other countries – especially Bosnia and Herzegovina, Serbia and
Montenegro and remote (in many senses) Moldova – on the road to transparency,
and better policy and practice.
SUPPLEMENT TO CHAPTER TWELVE
____________________________________________________
SOUTH-EAST EUROPEAN TRANSACCT RATINGS 2002
Country
Rating
Albania
CCC
BiH
CC
Bulgaria
AA-
Croatia
BB
Macedonia
B
Moldova
D
Romania
AA-
Serbia and M’gro
C
Note
In the S&P investment ratings ‘D’ denotes ‘default’ (meaning insolvency).
By analogy, assigning a ‘D’ to Moldova in our categorisation signifies that
we believe this country falls below a transparency and accountability
threshold: there is an evident insufficiency in policy and practice.
The
country’s ‘democratic deficit’ – to use a well-understood expression – is so
large as to amount to ‘insolvency’.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
____________________________________________________
POSSIBILITIES
The TRANSACCT ratings that our audit has yielded (see table) are the point of
departure for conclusions and recommendations on transparency-building. These
are of two sorts. First, we discuss some concrete steps that might be taken to move
policy and practice in Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH), Croatia, Macedonia,
Moldova, plus Serbia and Montenegro towards the level of South-Eastern Europe’s
A-grade states, Bulgaria and Romania. Secondly, and more briefly, we consider
what might be done to improve matters across the region, in the two top-rated
countries as well as the other half-dozen.
We are interested in possibilities, as the chapter’s title says; and, most important, in
practical possibilities. That is why our prime concern is improvements to the status
quo, on trying to bring all the Stability Pact (SP) ‘beneficiary’ states up to the
standard of the best in the neighbourhood.
We are not interested in ‘charting
courses in the far oceans of the imagination’ – the late Louis Halle’s vivid phrase –
but in getting from ‘here’ to an attainable ‘there’. Nor do we want to be numbered
among those whose ‘ideas about improving society are abstractions that float above
culture and history’ (Georgian archaeologist Zoal Kikodze’s sharp comment on wellmeaning American and European NGOs).
Focused effort and assisted effort are most likely to produce desired improvement,
we believe (see previous chapter). Accordingly, we consider what ought to be done,
and how, but on the understanding that there must be means priority-setting. We
consider also by whom support should be provided, recognising that past assistance
in this area has not always been co-ordinated (or disinterested) and that aid ought
not to infringe on local ownership of the reform agenda.
Getting up to standard
In each of the main areas examined in our categorising exercise – policy
accountability, financial accountability, domestic transparency and international
transparency – there is plenty of scope for improvement in Albania, BiH, Croatia,
Macedonia and Moldova, and for infant Serbia and Montenegro to make a good fresh
start.
Policy accountability
In each of these six, establishing accountable governance with respect to defence
policy-making and planning requires attention to both how the executive obligation of
openness is fulfilled and how the legislative responsibility of oversight is exercised.
Executive obligation In this part of the two-way relationship, priority should be given
to better engaging elected representatives and other ‘civil society’ institutions in the
broad policy-making process. A straightforward concrete step would be to do what
Romania has done: to appoint a high official – and create a small office – in the
defence ministry with special responsibility for congressional relations (in
Washington’s language). The role is to keep the legislature informed of what is going
on in the bureaucracy, including the General Staff; and to keep the authorities
informed of what lawmakers think about it. In Bucharest they have a State Secretary
(Deputy Minister) to do this. In ‘the six’ a less elevated appointment might suffice: in
Zagreb, for instance, an Assistant Minister perhaps (like the head of the Diplomatic
Academy there). What is important is that there should be someone of a certain
standing whose business it is to liaise with the elected chamber(s).
The key
requirement is that access to the top management of defence, and the high
command, should be assured. Absent this, the official (or office) can be neither
credible nor effective in the role.
Legislative responsibility
Improving elected representatives’ ability to hold the
executive to account calls for action on two fronts. These are (1) ensuring that
national statutes spell out clearly the rights and the duties of the legislature in the
exercise of the oversight function; and (2) strengthening the capacity of specialist
committees to perform this task, by providing training for members plus permanent
staff support (meaning one or two full-time, independent and knowledgeable experts
on the parliamentary payroll). The first is necessary because experience shows that
vague declaratory norms leave too much leeway for executive discretion and
legislative indifference. The second is necessary because few deputies have the
basic knowledge and skills to conduct even superficial scrutiny and require both
education themselves and dedicated professional help if they are to deliver effective
scrutiny.
(Enlisting temporary, part-time ‘specialist advisers’ or researchers can
augment in-house staff support but cannot substitute for it, in our opinion.)
Turning to implementation/assistance, setting up a ‘congressional relations’ office in
the national defence ministry ought not to pose problems for any country, with the
possible exception of Moldova. On the practicalities, Romania might offer to assist –
sharing its experience and ‘lessons learned’ – either on a bilateral basis with
individual states or, perhaps more ambitiously, within the framework of a multicountry initiative under the aegis of the South-East European Co-operation Process
(SEECP). That forum might also be the place for national pledges to enact the
necessary enabling legislation for improved parliamentary oversight, under the
‘promotion of good governance’ rubric. On this, too, Romania could brief others on
what is necessary (see Chapter Ten).
As for strengthening specialist committees, it clearly makes sense to build on the
‘parliamentary support’ work that OSCE Missions have been doing. However, this
requires co-ordination at the OSCE level itself and, most important, a willingness of
other agencies to acknowledge OSCE leadership in this area of activity (as they
appear to do in Belgrade and Sarajevo/Banja Luka but not elsewhere). There is a
difficulty, because we have organisations pushing general good governance
agendas, broad security-sector reform agendas, and narrower ‘democratic control of
armed forces’ agendas. As a recent SP-sponsored study noted, ‘there is a degree of
competition among international actors, stemming from various reform models and
approaches’; and
different institutional priorities and the reluctance of individual organizations to
be coordinated tends to prevent real progress towards more coherent and
complementary international interventions.
(Security Sector Reform: Gaps
analysis, York University (Canada) for the Stability Pact, 2002: emphasis
added).
An exercise in knocking heads together would clearly not be amiss. At the same
time, it ought to be possible to accommodate different contributions to the priority
goal(s) identified here in a sensible way.
Thus in any individual country, one might imagine a pattern of activity similar to the
following:
(a) Committee member training in-country: organised by OSCE as part of its
‘parliamentary support’ work; specialist contributions on defence and security
from specialist service providers (like CESS and DCAF).
(b) Permanent staff member training on a regional basis: co-ordinated by
OSCE as part of its ‘parliamentary support’ work; delivered by specialist service
providers (like CESS and DCAF), using regional facilities (like those of the
Regional Arms Control Verification Assistance Centre (RACVIAC) located near
Zagreb).
(c) Provision of temporary full- or part-time assistance to specialist defence
committees pending regular staffing: co-ordinated through OSCE; appointees
might attend training provided under (b).
Organisations offering or contemplating effort in the defence and security field
outside such a framework – as we understand UNDP is in Albania, for example –
should, frankly, be dissuaded.
Financial accountability
Priority in promoting accountable governance with respect to defence programming
and budgeting should be given similarly to both elements in the executive-legislature
relationship.
Executive obligation
Albania, BiH, Croatia, Macedonia and Moldova all lack a
satisfactory defence programming and budgeting system.
Nor has Serbia and
Montenegro inherited sound procedures from the FRY. This needs to be put right. In
more than one case countries have had American advice on the problem, but have
failed to find a way of adapting recommended procedures to local circumstances.
That is something Bulgaria has done.
Sofia’s integrated resource management
system – well described in the 2002 Defence White Paper – is based on the US
Defence Resources Management Model (the ‘dream’ model). The other South-East
Europeans might, therefore, consider following in Bulgaria’s footsteps. At the same
time they could do worse than look carefully at the new Bulgarian budgeting process
and the presentation of information on resource-use that goes with it.
Legislative
responsibility
Given
‘procedural
visibility
and
clarity’,
elected
representatives would be better able to exercise their oversight function from the
standpoint of ex ante accountability, especially if the competence of specialist
committees were enhanced in the ways described in the last sub-section. So far as
ex post accountability is concerned, here priority must be accorded to reform of audit
arrangements. As noted in Chapter Twelve, this is a matter of (1) increasing the
competence of audit officers, (2) establishing and guaranteeing the independence of
audit offices, and, most important, (3) ensuring that there is respect for the work that
they do (in particular by ensuring that identified wrongdoing, and wrongdoers, do not
go unpunished).
All three challenges can be addressed, given political will plus
constructive assistance.
They should be tackled, because a properly-functioning
audit bureau is one of the keys – maybe the key – to honest government and,
although we do not underestimate the difficulties that this objective presents in
South-Eastern Europe, every country should have an effective one.
On implementation and assistance, the importance of increasing the competence of
audit officers is already recognised in some places. For example, in BiH the Swedish
Audit Office is doing excellent work, under OSCE auspices, with all three bodies
there. All states should have such a mentor. This is another matter that might best
be raised in SEECP – the emerging voice of the region in dialogue with the SP Office
– with a view to establishing a network of SP-supported arrangements.
The
International Organisation of Supreme Audit Institutions (INTOSAI) might also have a
part to play. There would be value also in instituting personnel exchanges – staff
from South-Eastern Europe to well-established European offices and vice versa –
and INTOSAI could take it upon itself to arrange these.
The independence of audit offices is crucial. At the next available opportunity – their
next summit, perhaps – the SEECP participants should commit themselves to the
enactment in every country of legislation that firmly guarantees this and undertake to
end at once the practice of executive ‘interference’ in audit work. Ensuring respect
for what auditors do, and for the reports that they produce, might be less
straightforward. However, where misuse of taxpayers’ money is discovered, states
could promise high-level backing for tough disciplinary action and publicise highprofile examples of punishment or dismissal.
That would send a clear signal to
defence bureaucracies and the armed forces that they must order their affairs
correctly.
In implementation of the ex ante accountability measures advocated here, not
surprisingly we see a special role for Bulgaria. The country should be called upon to
brief others on both its integrated resources management system and its new multiyear budgeting process and budget presentation. For the last couple of years the
MoD in Sofia has hosted useful seminars on the public finance of defence (as PfP
activities). For the next several years these meetings could be targeted at the SouthEast European audience and dedicated to elucidation of Bulgaria’s own A-grade
policy and practice. Opportunities might also be created for secondment to Sofia of
interested officials, initially from starting-afresh Serbia and Montenegro plus the
MAP-states of the neighbourhood – Albania, Croatia and Macedonia – and, later,
from BiH (state-level) and possibly Moldova. (In due course there might also be
merit in getting Romania’s Defence Regional Resources Management Centre in
Brasov to lay on short residential courses for budget professionals.)
Domestic transparency
There would be huge gains to transparency across South-Eastern Europe from
widespread adoption of tailored variants of the Bulgarian defence programming and
budgeting system, and of the Romanian approach to policy-making and planning.
These are regional success-stories and emphatically not ‘abstractions that float
above culture and history’.
Benefits would accrue in terms of Nelson’s ‘procedural visibility and clarity’ and in
terms of regular publications. Under the latter heading each country should ideally
issue the following:
•
Post-election ‘refreshed’ security policy and defence policy statements
(following Romania’s example).
•
A flagship Defence White Paper that might appear annually, biennially or at
least four-/five-yearly (for which Bulgaria’s 2002 document, with bi-lingual
text, offers a standard at which to aim).
•
Budget documentation that clearly shows the allocation of resources to
defence, in the State Budget setting; and the allocation of resources within
defence, eventually in the form of programme-structured data (on a singleyear basis as in Romania, or on a multi-year basis as in Bulgaria now).
•
Annual Reports from the government on security, defence and military
matters, elucidating policy implementation and progress on programmes
(and, possibly, incorporating currently fashionable ‘performance indicators’).
In addition, assuredly independent audit offices would be confident about publicising
their findings and, if what happens in mature democracies is anything to go by, the
print and broadcast media would follow-up eagerly on juicy tales of waste, fraud and
mismanagement.
The production of popular versions of all the publications listed should be
encouraged. Here too Bulgaria and Romania have much to teach the other SouthEast European states. Having satisfied the requirements for NATO accession, these
two have also – on the face of it anyway – satisfactorily resolved the tension between
freedom of information and protection of state secrets (and NATO’s secrets). On the
other hand, we have noted, that, in the case of both states, MAP-feedback on
‘information security’ may have set back the assiduous pursuit of transparency here
and there. This is unfortunate, to put it mildly. Clearly, NATO and other international
organisations should keep their classification rules under constant review to ensure
that these protect what must be safeguarded but do not license defence bureaucrats
to withhold information for the sake of a quiet life.
International transparency
We have noted earlier that over the years the authorities in several South-East
European states have shown greater willingness to share defence facts and figures
with other governments than with their own legislatures and citizens. Thus there is
less to be done in the way of international transparency building than one might
imagine.
Priority should be accorded to sustaining and enhancing present policy and practice:
holding states to what they do now (2003) and encouraging them to do it better as
time goes by. What they do now is:
• participate in the information-exchange arrangements orchestrated by the
OSCE on the basis of the Vienna Document of 1999 (VD99), which includes a
politically-binding obligation to share with other governments details of past,
present and planned expenditures for military purposes; and
• forward their VD99 material to the cell set up under the SP-sponsored Budget
Transparency Initiative (BTI) for incorporation in its Yearbook on South-East
European Defence Spending, which means putting this information into the
public domain;
• while all states should be preparing to provide to the BTI cell detailed
explanations of how the figures are reached, for incorporation in a Survey of
South-East European Defence Budgeting Systems, thus adding transparency
of the decision-making process to transparency of budgetary outcomes.
The Yearbook is accessible on the SP website already. The Survey should be there
by end-2003 or very soon after.
All this represents a major contribution to fulfilment of core Stability Pact objectives:
‘to increase the sense of security and trust’ among South-East European countries
by enhancing ‘transparency and predictability in the military field’ and ‘aiming at the
creation of a new security culture in the region’ (website language).
Sustaining the effort should have first priority.
So far as the BTI ventures are
concerned that means mobilising donor support for production of successive annual
editions of the Yearbook and for analysis to supplement the initial Survey. Bulgaria
and the United Kingdom have borne the lion’s share of the financial burden
associated with the work to date.
It should not be hostage to their continued
generosity.
Enhancing both the VD99 process and the BTI-related exercises should be the
second goal. This is not the place for a detailed enumeration of all that might be
done. Suffice it to say that, to improve transparency and predictability, two things fall
in the ‘must do’ category. States should (a) share more information, especially about
the equipment modernisation they have in mind and have made financial provision
for; and (b) agree that the international assistance they receive, in various forms,
should be openly declared and properly accounted for.
Raising the standard
These last ideas on enhancement of international transparency carry the argument
beyond bringing Albania, BiH, Croatia, Macedonia, Moldova and the new state-union
of Serbia and Montenegro up to the standard(s) Bulgaria and Romania have set. We
are now talking about matters where all the SP ‘beneficiary’ states – including the
regional A-grade countries – could do better.
For example, in the matter of ‘international assistance’ the role of private security
firms like the Military Professional Resources Incorporated (MPRI) enterprise is not
only a grey area in BiH and Croatia (for example). There is an MPRI operation in
Sofia, doing who knows what.
Another American business (Cubic) is active in
Bucharest, but likewise does not draw attention to itself. A transparency building
agenda for South-Eastern Europe should include illumination of these and similar
relationships.
In fact this task should stand high on the agenda, because the activities of the
businesses in question do not self-evidently help increase ‘the sense of security and
trust’ in the neighbourhood. The so-called Military Stabilisation Programme mounted
by MPRI in the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina through the mid-1990s is a
case in point. According to a 2002 Saferworld Report, although delivered under a
‘US State Department-brokered contract’, this effort is widely regarded as having
been ‘counter-productive for long-term peace’ in BiH. Indeed, Saferworld’s reporters
say,
‘….since 1998 a great deal of effort has been exerted by other international
actors to counter the effect of MPRI training and bring the two recognised
armies together to encourage the development of a common defence doctrine.’
Nor did the MPRI programme involve only training. Saferworld records that in 1996
the Federation Army was supplied with 46,100 M-16 rifles, 1000 M-60 (7.62mm)
machine guns and around 170 other automatic weapons, against the spirit of postDayton arms control and despite an acknowledged regional small arms and light
weapons (SALW) problem.
The reporters add, resignedly, that ‘the lack of
transparency in the re-armament process remains a concern’ (J. King, A. W. Dorn
and M. Hodes, An Unprecedented Experiment: Security Sector Reform in Bosnia and
Herzegovina, Saferworld, September 2002).
‘Lack of transparency’ continues to characterise South-East European arms
acquisition generally. Not only are American organisations like MPRI and Cubic
subtly – or not so subtly – drumming up business for US suppliers, the Russians are
clearly hard at work trying to win friends and influence people too (as the Bulgarian
MiG-29 affair makes clear). So are a great many other would-be suppliers. The
transparency-building agenda thus needs to address procurement all round; and, in
this area, official claims that ‘authority’ must override ‘accountability’ for reasons of
military security and/or commercial confidentiality need to be exposed for the selfserving assertions that they are.
The problem is: how to proceed from here to identification of practical possibilities for
remedial action. It ought to be possible, however, to do a couple of things. In the first
place, pressure could be put on governments to include in their policy statements
and annual reports (vide supra) full details of modernisation plans and procurement
options under consideration, including the identity of potential suppliers. ‘Procedural
visibility’ must extend to telling elected representatives (and society-at-large) who the
defence ministry is talking to, and about what, as investment plans take shape.
Simply bringing the arms and matériel acquisition process within the ambit of
(improved) specialist committee scrutiny would be a step forward.
A second idea that might be pursued is to get governments to include in their
publications portfolios an annual Major Projects Statement (MPS). The document
that the UK’s defence ministry produces under that name could be a model. Besides
presenting a yearly overview of procurement-in-progress – including schemes still at
the feasibility study or project definition stage – the British MPS declares for each
item,
•
how much money has been spent so far, the latest estimate of ‘cost to
completion’ and how the sum of these two compares with initial cost
estimates, thus signalling cost escalation promptly and unambiguously;
•
the original in-service date forecast and the latest prediction, thus signalling
time slippages similarly; and
•
essential details on the performance specification laid down for weapons
systems and any indications there are that these might not be met, thus
providing early warning of possible failure of the equipment in question to do
what it is supposed to do.
Among other things, material like this performs the valuable function of allowing top
decision-makers and scrutinising bodies to consider cost, time and performance
trade-offs. Moreover, ‘scrutinising bodies’ here includes the audit bureau – in the
British case, the National Audit Office (NAO).
In the United Kingdom the NAO
produces an annual commentary on the MPS highlighting cost escalation, in-service
date slippage and performance shortfalls. This is sent to Parliament but, no less
important, receives wide publicity. It is a major contribution to transparency in an
important area of defence affairs.
Conclusion
The emphasis throughout the foregoing pages is on practical possibilities in
transparency building, and on focused effort and assisted effort.
Concern for practicability explains the concentration on, first, what needs to be done
to bring all the South-East European countries up to the standard of the best in the
neighbourhood, and, secondly, a couple of axes along which effort to produce better
practice all round might be pursued.
Concern with ‘focus’ explains why, under both these headings, the possibilities
discussed in this chapter are not a catalogue of all the things that might be done but
rather a considered selection of what should be done.
On the subject of ‘assistance’ the conclusions and recommendations presented
recognise that outside help has a part to play, though there are some interventions
that the region could probably do without and necessary aid needs to be much better
co-ordinated than it has been in the past. At the same time ‘help for self-help’ should
be the watchword, in our opinion.
In this connection, we believe that responsibility for promoting greater transparency
and accountability in the conduct of defence affairs in South-East Europe should
increasingly be assumed by regional institutions, like the SEECP forum and, in
certain contexts, perhaps the Southeast European Defence Ministerial (SEDM)
process. We believe, further, that sustaining regional initiatives – like the BTI effort,
now very much locally-owned – deserves high priority.
Last but not least, we think that, as soon-to-be NATO members – and ahead-of-therest EU aspirants – there is a leadership role for Bulgaria and Romania in the
transparency-building enterprise. Their showing in our regional ‘audit’ – expressed in
the TRANSACCT ratings we have accorded them – indicates that these two
countries are suitably equipped for such a role. It is one they should be encouraged
to assume and which their neighbours should be persuaded to accept.
All these possibilities are practical possibilities.
Implementation need not await
further deliberation, still less the formulation of a grandiose Action Plan. In mid-2003
the Stability Pact celebrated its fourth anniversary. The Office of the Special Co-
ordinator should resolve to make mobilisation of effort for these next steps to
transparency a leading priority for its fifth year of business.1
1
Presented as a Supplement to this Chapter is a stand-alone Statement of Recommendations – a
reprise of the Chapter’s principal arguments – prepared in mid-2003 to serve as an Executive Summary
of the Report. It is accompanied by a brief checklist of Proposals for Action.
ANNEX TO STATEMENT OF RECOMMENDATIONS
____________________________________________________
PROPOSALS FOR ACTION
The Statement of Recommendations contains several proposals for action by the
SEECP forum (as ‘voice of the region’), by Bulgaria and Romania (as states with
‘transformation experience’ to share), and by the Office of the Special Co-ordinator of
the Stability Pact – hereafter the SP Office – notably the Working Table Three staff.
1. In the short/medium term the SEECP should take the initiative in mounting an
effort to achieve a levelling-up of regional standards of accountability and
transparency by:
1.1 Urging all member governments to (a) enact – or amend – national legislation to
confer on elected representatives clear oversight powers in relation to defence
policy-making, planning, programming and budgeting; and (b) co-ordinate the training
of specialist committee members and staffs, on a co-operative regional basis where
possible (e.g. courses for professional advisers).
1.2
Urging all member governments to (a) enact – or amend –
legislation
guaranteeing the independence of national audit bureaux (and ad interim end
executive ‘interference’ with such bodies); (b) take rigorous disciplinary action where
audits reveal wrongdoing (to enhance respect for the audit function); and (c) coordinate effort to
improve the competence of audit officers, on a co-operative
regional basis where possible (e.g. through a ‘mentoring’ network created in
association with INTOSAI).
1.3
Promoting awareness of local ‘good practice’ vis-à-vis accountability by (a)
inviting Romania to brief other governments on its machinery for executive-legislature
relations in defence (and generally); and (b) inviting Bulgaria to brief similarly on its
procedures for integrated defence resources management (with particular reference
to multi-year programme budgeting).
1.4 Encouraging better practice vis-à-vis domestic transparency by defining a model
portfolio of publications that member states should undertake to produce.
1.5 Encouraging better practice vis-à-vis international transparency by eliciting a
reaffirmation of states’ existing obligations regarding information-exchange and
publication plus a commitment to support enhanced arrangements.
The co-operation of Bulgaria and Romania is clearly crucial to 1.3 above.
The
support of the SP Office is obviously important for all, especially 1.4 (helping define
the portfolio) and 1.5 (mustering donor support for developments under the aegis of
its Budget Transparency Initiative (BTI)).
2. The SP Office should take the lead when it comes to medium- and/or longer-term
action aimed at raising standards, and thereafter maintaining them, by:
2.1 Drafting a Code of Practice on Transparency and Accountability in the conduct of
national security-sector affairs for submission – with a view to adoption – at a nearfuture SEECP (and/or SEDM) meeting.
2.2 Informing its donor network of this exercise and soliciting pledges of support for
the efforts of ‘beneficiary’ states to adhere to the Code (wherever financial or other
assistance may be required).
2.3 Incorporating in the Code – in addition to provisions on matters covered in para.
1 above – explicit obligations to publish, and open to legislative scrutiny, information
about inter alia (a) all types of military assistance and (b) all arms and matériel
acquisition plans.
2.4 Monitoring developments in the enhancement of international transparency in
the region – especially the evolution of the BTI venture – and soliciting donor support
for these as for countries’ domestic transparency improvements.
2.5 Commissioning further independent ‘audits’ – along the lines of this exercise in
2002 – in order to gauge progress and, if necessary, prescribe further transparencybuilding measures.
The final item here is not included in the preceding Statement of Recommendations
arising from the 2002 investigation.
However, there would be obvious merit in
replication of that inquiry – and revision of the country assessments (ratings) that it
yielded – not least to signal clearly which South-East European states are (or are
not) proceeding towards the democratic governance of defence.
It goes without saying that there is brief supporting argument for these Proposals in
the Note to which they are annexed, and full supporting argument in the main report
of the CESS study – Transparency and Accountability in the Conduct of Defence
Affairs: Policy and Practice in South-Eastern Europe – currently undergoing revision
for publication in the third quarter of 2003. In that text there are also many countryspecific observations. All this material has been, or can be, made available to the SP
Office.
APPENDIX 1
____________________________________________________
GENEVA CENTRE FOR THE DEMOCRATIC CONTROL OF
ARMED FORCES (DCAF)
Mission
The Geneva Centre for the Democratic Control of Armed Forces (DCAF) was
established in October 2000 on the initiative of the Swiss government. The Centre’s
mission is to encourage and support States and non-State governed institutions in
their efforts to strengthen democratic and civilian control of armed and security
forces, and to promote good governance, rule of law, and international cooperation in
this field.
To implement its objectives, the Centre:
ƒ Collects information and undertakes research in order to identify problems, to
establish lessons learned and to propose the best practices in the field of
democratic control of armed forces and civil-military relations;
ƒ Provides its expertise and support in tailor-made form through appropriate
projects and programmes to all interested parties, in particular governments,
parliaments, international organisations, non-governmental organisations,
academic circles. In relations with national governments, a particular
emphasis is given to the principle of “help for self-help”.
Areas of Expertise and Current Projects
DCAF deals with a whole range of actors including armed forces, border guards,
police, state security agencies, intelligence, parliamentary and governmental
oversight structures, and civil society organisations. The work of DCAF is primarily
aimed at, but not limited to, countries in transition towards democracy in the EuroAtlantic region.
DCAF’s key areas of analysis include:
-
security sector reform;
-
parliamentary oversight of armed forces, police, state security forces, and
intelligence;
-
legal dimension of defence and security sector reform;
-
conversion and force reductions;
-
civil society building in post-conflict situations;
-
security sector reform and human security.
DCAF’s key practical projects on the ground include
-
advice and practical assistance on security sector reform to governments;
-
provision of expert staffers to parliamentary oversight structures, such as
defence committees;
-
assistance in drafting legislation related to defence and security in line with
European standards and norms;
-
training on modern civilian border guard techniques;
-
assisting governments in re-organising and demobilizing their military forces;
-
assisting governments in dealing with defence budget transparency, defence
procurement and planning.
Organisational Structure and Budget
DCAF is an International Foundation under Swiss Law. DCAF’s Foundation Council
is currently made up of 45 governments including Switzerland, 40 other States from
the Euro-Atlantic region, 3 African States and the Canton of Geneva.
DCAF’s International Advisory Board is composed of a group of over 60 eminent
experts in the various fields of DCAF’s involvement.
DCAF staff includes some 60 experts on defence and security matters comprising
about 30 different nationalities. The Think Tank carries out in-house research and
analysis, contracts research projects, engages in joint ventures with partners, and
networks existing knowledge, notably through the activities of its working groups.
DCAF’s Outreach and International Projects Divisions implement the results of this
analysis through practical work programmes on the ground. These Divisions are
currently directing several dozen projects within various countries in transition
towards democracy.
The Swiss Federal Department of Defence, Civil Protection and Sports and the
Federal Departments of Foreign Affairs are the largest contributors to DCAF’s budget
(10 million Swiss francs in 2003).
Detailed information on DCAF’s organisation and activities can be found on the
DCAF website: www.dcaf.ch
APPENDIX 2
____________________________________________________
THE CENTRE FOR EUROPEAN SECURITY STUDIES
The Centre for European Security Studies is an independent and non-profit
foundation engaged in research, education and training on foreign policy and security
affairs affecting the whole of Europe.
A key mission is to promote democratic
structures and decision-making procedures in this field, especially throughout Central
and Eastern Europe where it works to support those organisations and individuals
striving to establish civil societies under the rule of law.
By facilitating a
comprehensive process of learning, it aims to contribute to mutual understanding on
all security matters, thus helping to build a stable all-European order.
information is available at:
http://odur.let.rug.nl/cess/welcome.htm
The Centre of European Security Studies (CESS).
Lutkenieuwstraat 31 A
9712 AW Groningen
The Netherlands
Director: Peter Volten
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