CHAPTER FOUR
Private Military Companies and the Reasonable Chance of Success
ASSESSING THE REASONABLE CHANCE of success, one of the ancillary criteria of jus ad bellum, has become more complicated with the increasing reliance of states on private force. With the emergence of the private military industry, states and other actors can now hire additional capabilities to augment their own forces. Private military companies (PMCS) provide a range of services from logistical support to combat, all of which enhance their clients’ ability to wage war. The capabilities that actors can secure on the open market can transform their ability to wage war, and these potentially transformative services are available to both wealthy and poor actors. The availability of wealth from mineral resources and other state assets can pay for private force so that even states without access to the cash to pay for services can hire PMCS. This means that the complications for assessing the reasonable chance of success apply across the board, virtually without limitation. The complications of enhanced capabilities apply to all states and rebel movements, without regard to their wealth or poverty.
The function of the Just War tradition generally, and jus ad bellum norms in particular, is to limit the unjust use of force. Certainly the use of force is unjust if it is deployed in service of an unjust cause. But even where a state has just cause to wage war, its use of force may still be unjust where the state has no reasonable prospect of achieving its cause. Where a state lacks this reasonable chance of success, the pursuit of even a just cause takes on the nature of a quixotic endeavor that inflicts harm without achieving any morally redeeming result. This principle is sometimes characterized as a prudential principle rather than a moral one. Alex J. Bellamy characterizes the reasonable chance of success as a prudential jus ad bellum criterion that provides a check on the waging of an otherwise justifiable war.1 While this particular principle does require a strategic assessment of a potential opponent’s capabilities, it is at its core a moral principle. The use of force without a realistic chance of obtaining the (presumably just) cause is not merely imprudent but also unethical.
The application of this principle does require the state or, in the context of a civil war, the rebel movement to make an assessment of both its own capabilities and its potential adversary’s strengths. Success, defined as the military triumph over the enemy, is essential to obtaining the just cause that initially motivated the war. While events may take the war in an unpredictable direction, initiating a war that cannot possibly succeed is at odds with the central concern of jus ad bellum principles, the limitation of unjust force. If the principle of reasonable chance of success is to be satisfied, a state must have at least some realistic possibility of prevailing.
Making this assessment requires that states be able to judge the capabilities of their potential adversaries with some degree of accuracy. Such an assessment is difficult under any circumstances because of the nebulousness inherent in the concept of power itself. Power is difficult to calculate under any conditions, but the availability of private force means that even an accurate assessment of power could quickly become obsolete. The use of private force in Sierra Leone’s civil war bears out the transformative role that PMCS can play in war. On its own, the government of Sierra Leone could not defend itself against a challenge from the Revolutionary United Front (RUF). After hiring the PMC Executive Outcomes (EO), the government’s fortunes improved substantially, to the point that the government was able to compel the RUF to negotiate a settlement. These gains resulted solely from the involvement of EO, as the aftermath of EO’s withdrawal establishes. While the case of Sierra Leone and the role of EO is an instance in which the contributions of private force were particularly dramatic, PMCS always enhance the capabilities of their clients. Even the performance of logistical functions frees the military personnel who would otherwise perform those tasks, allowing them to assume more combat-related functions. The potential of PMCS to enhance their clients’ military capabilities makes the estimation of power and the chances of success more difficult than ever.
This chapter considers the emergence of the private market for force and how the ability of states to hire PMCS complicates the application of this principle of reasonable chance of success. The discussion begins with an overview of the principle of reasonable chance of success. It then discusses the rise of the private market for force. Participating in the private market for force can radically transform a state’s capabilities, at least over the short term. The involvement of EO in Sierra Leone illustrates the potential for such transformation. Finally, this chapter looks at the potential for the principle to apply even within these increasingly complex circumstances. The emergence of the market for private force has complicated the strategic assessment that this moral principle requires. For reasonable chance of success to be meaningful and useful, it must account for this growing complexity. Specifically, I argue that the potential for states to enhance their capabilities by acting in concert with PMCS must be recognized by the formulation of this principle.
REASONABLE CHANCE OF SUCCESS
A state must be pursuing a just cause in order to satisfy the jus ad bellum test, but just cause alone is insufficient for the overall decision to wage war to be considered just. The decision to wage war must also satisfy the ancillary jus ad bellum criteria, one of which is reasonable chance of success.
Since this jus ad bellum principle involves an assessment of the military capabilities on both sides, reasonable chance of success is sometimes treated as a prudential consideration rather than a moral one. That going to war without a meaningful chance of prevailing is imprudent certainly seems beyond question. However, this decision would not be merely imprudent but also immoral. The goal of the Just War tradition is the limitation of war.2 Waging war, even for a just cause like self-defense or defense of others, involves destruction of lives and property. Without a reasonable chance of success, waging war would inflict its destructive effects without achieving any good effects to mitigate these harms. To invite this harm on one’s own state is suicidal and imprudent; to impose this harm on the target state is homicidal and unjust. Reasonable chance of success is thus a moral principle albeit one that implicates strategic and prudential considerations.
The reasonable chance of success raises the question of what success really means in this context. Ultimately, success requires achieving the just cause that motivated the war. In a more immediate sense, success requires prevailing militarily. If the just cause could be obtained without resort to force, then the nonmilitary means to that end would be utilized as required by the jus ad bellum principle of last resort. In the absence of a nonforcible avenue to achieving the just cause, force is the only remaining possibility for achieving the cause. As such, the question of success often focuses somewhat narrowly on the likelihood of military success, or what Clausewitz would call “the overthrow of the enemy.”3 Michael Walzer criticizes this view, arguing that war (or at least fighting) should terminate when the goals of the Just War are within political reach.4 At that point, he argues, success has been obtained. Similarly, James Turner Johnson emphasizes the understanding of success as the reestablishment of postwar order.5
But even when success is defined more broadly in terms of achieving the cause that motivates the war, that understanding of success entails some degree of success in military terms. Assuming that the other jus ad bellum criteria have been satisfied, and war is truly the last resort by which the state can attain its just cause, then the successful use of coercion is necessary to achieve the just cause that motivated the war. If success in political terms could be achieved in the absence of military coercion, then war would not truly be a last resort, and the war’s justness would have failed to satisfy other jus ad bellum criteria.
The possibility of successfully coercing the enemy requires an assessment of the relative capabilities of both potential parties to the conflict. Prevailing militarily depends largely on the possession of more power, a concept that is both central to the study of international politics and ill defined. Nevertheless, the judgment concerning possibility of success remains difficult. Superior military capabilities do not always translate neatly into success in winning the war, as the defeat of great powers by smaller powers throughout history demonstrates. Moreover, information about state capabilities may be concealed or distorted, making the assessment of the chance of success more difficult.
Calculating the possibility of success becomes infinitely more difficult with the availability of private force. As in other aspects of the Just War tradition, thinking about the reasonable chance of success has become crystallized around the state. Caron Gentry’s chapter in this volume considers this problem with respect to the principle of right authority, but statism poses problems with respect to reasonable chance of success as well. The presumption that war is conducted by state actors obscures the reality that states often engage in armed conflict in conjunction with nonstate actors who contribute to their capabilities. States and other actors now have at their disposal additional capabilities that can be acquired with a signature on a contract. The potential to easily acquire additional capabilities from the market means that even an accurate assessment of a state’s national forces is only a partial picture. The inability to form a true picture of the force at a state’s disposal, in turn, distorts any estimate of the possibility of success. The private force that states can obtain may, in certain circumstances, have a truly transformative effect on a state’s military capabilities. A state that would have been easily defeated without its PMC partners can become a formidable opponent with them. The experience of the RUF in Sierra Leone, waging war against both the unassisted government and the government acting in concert with EO bears out this point.
This is true across the range of services offered by PMCS, enumerated below, all of which enhance a state’s ability to wage war. PMCS now perform a number of functions that state militaries used to perform for themselves exclusively. States may hire PMCS to supplement their downsized national militaries, or they may seek expertise that is lacking within their own armed forces. In many cases, PMCS are hired to perform functions that seem far removed from the battlefield but nevertheless add to state capabilities in a meaningful way. The ability to turn to the market enhances both the numerical strength at states’ disposal and, in some cases, their technical expertise as well. As the case studies suggest, the impact of PMCS and their role in combat can be decisive.
THE MARKET FOR PRIVATE FORCE
Private force has previously been an important component of the international system. Prior to the emergence of the national military, rulers often turned to the market to supplement the forces at their disposal. European armies in the Middle Ages contained large numbers of mercenary troops.6 With the emergence of the state system and especially the state’s consolidation of authority over force around the time of the French Revolution, private force was pushed to the margins of the international system. After the Cold War, a new market for private force emerged. The downsizing of national armed forces created a large supply of newly unemployed individuals with military skills. The declining willingness of the West to intervene in conflicts, either unilaterally or multilaterally, created a demand for some other means for meeting these security needs. Finally, an ideological predisposition for market solutions, which the East also began to embrace after the collapse of the Soviet Union, favored the private market for force as the optimal way to satisfy those demands.7 Collectively, these forces gave rise to a new private market for force.
This market differed in important ways from the mercenaries of the Cold War. One important difference is that PMCS offer a range of services to their clients as opposed to only engaging in combat on behalf of clients. Peter W. Singer divides PMCS into three categories based on the type of services that they provide.8 He describes the services based on their proximity to combat using a spear analogy. The firms closest to the tip of the spear are military provider firms or provide other services that are closely related to combat. These are PMCS that will engage in the use of force on behalf of their clients. One step removed from this stage are military consulting firms, which provide training or advice to clients. Furthest from the tip of the spear are military support firms. These are PMCS that provide services like transportation and other logistical functions. While it may be more useful to classify contracts instead of firms,9 since the same firm can provide different services in different contexts, Singer’s typology is a useful way of thinking about the range of services that PMCS provide.
PMC services at all points on the metaphorical spear augment the capabilities of their clients. Military provider firms do so in the most obvious way, as these firms fight alongside the national forces of state clients. In these cases, the services provided by these firms can be transformative, particularly where they are more professional than the military of the state that hires them. But even consulting or logistical services can enhance state capabilities. When PMCS provide consulting or training services, the expertise that they impart can transform the military potential of client states, possibly for the long term. When PMCS provide consulting or training services, they have the potential to make the local militaries to which they provide the services more professional and more capable over the long term. Even firms that provide services that seem far removed from the battlespace, such as transportation or logistics, can enhance national military capabilities, though the effect will not last beyond the expiration of the contract. If nothing else, PMCS acting in this capacity frees up military personnel to form more essential military functions. Prior to the emergence of the PMC industry, military personnel performed the entire range of functions located at all points along the “spear.” Placing PMC personnel in these functions rather than soldiers frees the soldiers to perform functions that are more closely tied to combat.
In some cases, the effect of PMCS on the military capabilities of client states can be dramatic. The impact of the PMC Executive Outcomes in Sierra Leone illustrates the kind of impact that private force can have on state military capabilities. EO, a South African PMC that has since shut its doors, was an early entrant into the market for private force. EO formed in the wake of South Africa’s postapartheid military cuts. A military provider firm, EO performed functions that were close to the tip of the spear, often engaging in combat alongside its clients. Sierra Leone hired EO to help suppress rebel movements. Although this is a case of internal rather than international armed conflict, the stark difference between the capabilities of the national armed forces with and without EO underscores EO’s significant impact on state capabilities.
PRIVATE FORCE IN SIERRA LEONE
Sierra Leone is perhaps the paradigmatic “weak state.”10 After Captain Valentine Strasser seized power in a coup, his government soon faced opposition from a rebel movement, the Revolutionary United Front. The RUF was led by Foday Sankoh, an ally of Charles Taylor, who would eventually become the president of Liberia and who was then the leader of the National Patriotic Front of Liberia, a rebel group that sought to topple the government of Samuel Doe.11 Sierra Leone’s national military had been deliberately weakened under the government preceding the one that Strasser had overthrown. This move, calculated to avoid a coup, left the government forces ill equipped to fend off the RUF’s assault.
The national forces came to be known as “sobels,” reflecting the fact that they were an amalgamation of soldiers and rebels.12 In terms of their conduct, both sides engaged in looting and other attacks on the civilian population. In some cases, individuals literally switched back and forth between the two sides, as soldiers were lured by the prospect of economic gain. One of the consequences is that the national forces alienated the civilian population. As a result of the government forces’ weakness and their lack of civilian support, by the end of 1991 the RUF controlled two-thirds of Sierra Leone’s territory.
The government’s ineffectiveness in combating the RUF was a major factor in the coup that brought the Strasser regime to power. Yet the Strasser regime fared little better. By 1995 the RUF made significant military gains against the government, advancing to within twenty kilometers of Freetown, Sierra Leone’s capital. In April 1995, Strasser hired EO to conduct offensive operations against the RUF.13 The Strasser government reportedly hired EO by granting mineral concessions. EO was part of Strategic Resource Corporation, which engaged in “security services for private and corporate clients, in air charter, and, directly or indirectly, in mining.”14 EO also had ties to Branch Energy, which engaged in oil exploration and mining in politically unstable regions.15 EO’s corporate ties, and Sierra Leone’s limited ability to pay, fueled considerable speculation about the financial arrangements connected to the contract. This speculation includes the possibility that payment to EO took the form of mineral concessions to Branch Energy.16 While David Shearer maintains that Sierra Leone paid EO in cash, he acknowledges that EO performed its services in areas rich in minerals because these minerals provided the government with important sources of revenue.17 Whether Sierra Leone paid EO with mineral concessions to its corporate cousin or used the revenue flowing from those mineral-rich areas to pay EO, the Strasser government was drawing on resources that belonged to the state in order to procure EO’s services for the purpose of prolonging its own existence.
In strategic terms, EO had a number of military objectives, including securing Freetown, regaining control of key resources, destroying RUF headquarters, and clearing out remaining RUF occupation.18 Sierra Leone’s military played only a supporting role in these operations.19 The involvement of EO altered the strategic picture in Sierra Leone and brought a period of relative peace to the country. This allowed for the holding of parliamentary and presidential elections in 1996. A further consequence of the gains made by EO, was that the RUF was forced to the bargaining table. In November 1996, the government and the RUF signed the Abidjan Peace Accord. This agreement created a mechanism for consolidating peace. It also provided for the disarmament of the RUF and the integration of rebels back into society under conditions of amnesty. Importantly, the Abidjan Peace Accord included terms requiring that EO leave Sierra Leone.20
These gains were short lived. With the departure of EO, the strategic picture allowed the RUF to recommence their attacks. By May of the next year, the new civilian government was overthrown, and the new government promptly aligned itself with the RUF. The ousted government fled to Guinea, where it hired Sandline, another PMC, to help it lead a countercoup. There was considerable continuity in terms of personnel and control between EO and Sandline, making Sandline a successor company to EO.21 Sandline’s involvement in the crisis was both controversial and inconsequential. The controversy stemmed from Sandline’s shipment of weapons and ammunition to the exiled government and peacekeepers from the Economic Community of West African States Monitoring Group (ECOMOG).22 This shipment violated an arms embargo and came to be known as the Arms to Africa scandal. Before either the arms or personnel from Sandline could arrive, the ECOMOG peacekeepers had already overthrown the governing junta.23
THE FUTURE OF REASONABLE CHANCE OF SUCCESS
The transformative effect that EO had on Sierra Leone’s capabilities against the RUF underscores the complications that private force can pose for applying the principle of reasonable chance of success to privatized conflicts. The difference between a state’s capabilities with and without the assistance of PMCS can be significant. The government’s capabilities with EO differed starkly from its capabilities without EO, a fact of which both the government and the rebels were keenly aware. An adversary that might prevail easily against unassisted national forces may find itself unable to defeat those same forces augmented by even a small number of PMC personnel. The capabilities of Sierra Leone’s national forces at three key points in the conflict with the RUF illustrates the striking impact that EO’s participation had on the government’s potential to prevail over the RUF.
At the point immediately before the Strasser government hired EO, the government was on the verge of defeat by the RUF, which controlled most of the country’s territory, including key mineral resources, and nearly had Freetown within its grasp. An assessment of Sierra Leone’s capabilities at that point would have found that the government’s forces were undisciplined and ineffective. The national forces of Sierra Leone, in the absence of outside assistance from a PMC, were a relatively easy target, and the chance of prevailing against them was high.
Augmented by a small number of EO personnel, the government forces’ capabilities transformed radically. With EO fighting alongside the national troops, the government was able to secure Freetown and retake control of the mineral-rich areas from the RUF. These strategic reversals brought the RUF to the bargaining table, and the resulting peace agreement established a new government. Fighting alongside EO, the forces of Sierra Leone were a much more formidable adversary than they were previously. The chances of success against Sierra Leone’s forces in cooperation with EO would almost certainly be much lower than they would have been against the national forces alone.
The peace agreement between the RUF and the government also required that EO leave Sierra Leone. While the civilian government would eventually hire Sandline and secure assistance from peacekeeping troops, for a period of time the national forces were unassisted by any PMC. During this time frame, the new government of Sierra Leone was overthrown and forced into exile. An assessment of the capability of Sierra Leone’s national forces would again be quite different. If the chance of success against the national forces with EO would be lower, the chance of success against those same forces after the departure of EO would be considerably higher. This was evidenced by the ruf’s success in toppling the newly elected government shortly after the departure of EO.
It may be tempting to treat EO’s impact in Sierra Leone as a marginal case, particularly since EO was engaging in offensive operations on behalf of its client. Most PMCS do not provide this type of assistance but focus instead on providing consulting and training to national militaries or performing logistical support for them. While military provider firms like EO do not make up the bulk of the private military industry, all PMCS contribute to the ability of their clients to engage in the use of force. Under the national military model of the Westphalian state system, the military was a self-contained entity that performed all functions related to war. To the extent that any of these functions are now performed by the private sector, this shift frees up military personnel to engage in combat functions. The outsourcing of even transportation functions of the operation of lodgings enhances the capability of a force beyond its size. Furthermore, a PMC does not need to engage in combat to have a transformative effect on the ability of the state to do so. Providing training or consulting services can also radically enhance the ability of a state to wage war. With respect to considerations of justice and war, this is not inherently just or unjust. If a state or rebel movement is waging war for a just cause, such as intervention to prevent an act of genocide, then facilitating the attainment of that cause, even through the use of private force, would certainly be a positive.24 By contrast, if the private force is used on behalf of an unjust cause, such as propping up an illegitimate or even genocidal regime, then the just war implications would clearly be quite different. In either instance, the probabilities for prevailing could differ considerably if private force becomes a factor in the conflict.
An implication of this changing picture is that we need to take a broader view of assessing state capabilities and the chance of prevailing against them. With the growth of the private military industry, state capabilities transform dramatically over a short period of time. Even assuming that an estimate of a state’s power at a particular point is accurate, it may become wildly inaccurate quickly. An accurate assessment of Sierra Leone’s capabilities prior to the contract with EO would belie the capabilities that the government would have at its disposal once EO personnel were leading the offensive strikes against the RUF. With respect to the chance of success, a military campaign against the national forces alone may be an easy proposition, while a war against the national military and its private partners would be significantly more difficult. The former scenario may offer a reasonable chance of success while the latter does not. The availability of private force, even to a poor state like Sierra Leone, means that state capabilities are more fluid and difficult to assess than they were in the absence of the private military industry. With the rise of private force, a state’s capabilities can change drastically and immediately with a signature on a document.
The growing fluidity and opacity of state capabilities in light of the availability of private force alters the way in which this particular jus ad bellum criterion should be applied. If the purpose of the reasonable chance of success principle is to limit the destructive pursuit of hopeless causes, assessing state capabilities at a single point is a useless exercise. Rather than making the assessment of a state’s capabilities once, prior to engaging in war, the assessment must be continuous and ongoing. At some point, the chances of success may change so dramatically that the likelihood of prevailing all but disappears. What was once a just war, in which a belligerent has a reasonable chance of prevailing, becomes a quixotic and destructive pursuit. In that event, the war would become unjust because it would no longer be winnable. Applying the reasonable chance of success criterion in a continuous manner may well prohibit wars that would otherwise be moral, but refusal to license destruction in pursuit of a futile cause is consistent with the overall jus ad bellum goal of limiting needless harm.
Although the focus of this chapter is on the jus ad bellum reasonable chance of success, it is important to recognize that the privatization of force has implications for the Just War tradition that extend beyond this principle, and even beyond the body of jus ad bellum principles more generally. The introduction into armed conflict of elements that are external to state militaries threatens to undermine the reciprocity and mutuality that underlies the jus in bello limitations on armed conflict. Many individuals who work for PMCS have a military background, but this does not necessarily translate into their being socialized according to the rules and norms of armed conflict. On the contrary, some individual participants in the market may come from backgrounds that are problematic with respect to jus in bello norms. Early in the emergence of the contemporary market for private force, a major source of labor came from apartheid-era South African forces that had been put out of work with the downsizing of the South African military in the wake of multiracial elections in that state. Nothing inherent in the market prevents PMCS from employing individuals without a military background or with a background of serious human rights violations or war crimes. Furthermore, PMCS lie outside the structure of the militaries that employ them. The U.S. Army Field Manual, for example, specifies that military personnel cannot give orders to civilian contractors. The contract is the mechanism for control over PMCS; once signed, PMCS may operate alongside but apart from national militaries. To the extent that practices of reciprocity are tied in with military identities, this divide threatens the application of Just War norms, at least in their present state, more broadly.
The private military industry has already become an important factor in armed conflict, with the involvement of EO in Sierra Leone being just one example. The Just War tradition, which predates the emergence of the Westphalian state system by many centuries, is certainly capable of accounting for this diffusion of the use of force. Recognizing that states increasingly wage war in cooperation with private partners is an important step in the evolution of the tradition. Because the precise level of PMC involvement, as well as the impact of that involvement, is so fluid and unpredictable, the only meaningful way to assess the reasonable chance of success is to do so on an ongoing basis.
A rigorous application of jus ad bellum criteria will not have the effect of licensing every war. In light of the availability of private force and the potentially transformative effect of that force, a continuous application of jus ad bellum criteria, including the requirement that a war have a reasonable chance of success in order to be just, will have the effect of licensing even fewer wars. It may even be the case that an initially Just War becomes unjust at some point and should be terminated. The limited justification for war is consistent with a resistance to excessive permissiveness. Any other application of this criterion would be inconsistent with the goal of restricting the harm of war to the level necessary to achieve the war’s just cause.
The Just War tradition is an evolving body of principles rather than a static body of rules. One way in which the tradition becomes extended is through the application of its core principles—including the limitation of unjust war—to new circumstances like the emergence of the PMC industry. Despite the beginnings of the reversal of state monopoly over the legitimate use of force, the body of jus ad bellum rules can nevertheless provide a response that achieves this vital moral purpose.
1. Alex J. Bellamy, Just Wars: From Cicero to Iraq (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2006), 123.
2. Ibid., 3.
3. Quoted in Michael Walzer, Just and Unjust Wars: A Moral Argument with Historical Illustrations, 3rd ed. (New York: Basic Books, 2000), 110.
4. Walzer, Just and Unjust Wars, 110.
5. James Turner Johnson, Can Modern War Be Just? (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1984), 28–29.
6. Janice E. Thomson, Mercenaries, Pirates, and Sovereigns: State-Building and Extraterritorial Violence in Early Modern Europe (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1994).
7. P. W. Singer, Corporate Warriors: The Rise of the Privatized Military Industry (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2003).
8. Ibid.
9. Deborah D. Avant, The Market for Force: The Consequences of Privatizing Security (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005).
10. Ibid., 82.
11. Because of his support for the RUF, Charles Taylor is currently facing charges before the Special Court for Sierra Leone. He is charged with crimes against humanity committed by the RUF in Sierra Leone.
12. Jeremy Harding, “The Mercenary Business: ‘Executive Outcomes,’” Review of African Political Economy 24, no. 71 (1997): 92.
13. Ulric Shannon, “Private Armies and the Decline of the State,” in Violence and Politics: Globalization’s Paradox, ed. Kenton Worcester, Sally Avery Bermanzohn, and Mark Ungar (New York: Routledge, 2002), 35.
14. Harding, “Mercenary Business,” 88.
15. David Shearer, Private Armies and Military Intervention (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 44.
16. Harding, “Mercenary Business,” 93.
17. Shearer, Private Armies and Military Intervention, 40.
18. Ibid., 49.
19. Shannon, “Private Armies,” 35.
20. David J. Francis, “Mercenary Intervention in Sierra Leone: Providing National Security or International Exploitation?,” Third World Quarterly 20, no. 2 (1999): 327.
21. Charles Dokubo, “‘An Army for Rent’, Private Military Corporations and Civil Conflicts in Africa: The Case of Sierra Leone,” Civil Wars 3, no. 2 (2000): 60.
22. Francis, “Mercenary Intervention in Sierra Leone,” 328.
23. Christopher Kinsey, Corporate Soldiers and International Security: The Rise of Private Military Companies (New York: Routledge, 2006), 78.
24. Eric A. Heinze, “Private Military Companies, Just War, and Humanitarian Intervention,” in Ethics, Authority, and War: Non-state Actors and the Just War Tradition, ed. Eric A. Heinze and Brent J. Steele (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009).