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Chapter 3: Alternative Destinations for Contested States

On This Chapter

Abstract

Points of departure

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International reactions to contested states

Inter-state options

Confederations

Condominiums

Free association

The Hong Kong option

Protected states and protectorates

International status

Regional entities

Territorial rightsizing

Intra-state arrangements

Federalism

Other forms of territorial autonomy

Non-territorial autonomy

Consociational democracy

Multiculturalism

Further options

Conclusion

Notes

The previous chapter provided a theoretical introduction to contested states’ origins, the first phase of their life cycle. We now proceed with a theoretical outline of the other two stages. In dealing here with the second phase, the focus will be on how the international community responds to the existence of contested states. It is after all these reactions that create the unfavourable external environment in which contested states find themselves. In trying to survive such adversity, contested states place heavy emphasis on state- and nation-building – the twin endeavours common among new states, especially those emerging from violent conflict. But however successful such projects, very few contested states will be allowed to advance to confirmed statehood for reasons mentioned in Chapter 1. Over the long run the status quo satisfies neither contested states nor the community of confirmed states. For one thing, the deprivations of isolation will prevent most contested states from achieving sustainable economic growth. The world community is in turn concerned about the combustible potential of the unresolved conflicts between contested states and their countries of origin. So although all of today’s contested states have been in existence for well over ten years and many could survive several more years, they are all ultimately transient phenomena expected to disappear.1 This leads us to the third and final phase of the life cycle: where might contested states ‘disappear’ to? The bulk of Chapter 3 is devoted to possible answers.

Points of departure

A wide range of alternative destinations for contested states – other than restoring the status quo ante, maintaining the status quo and gaining full recognition – will be presented in two broad categories: options of an interstate character and others of an intra-state nature. The adoption of many of these alternatives will require a flexible approach to three powerful ideas at the heart of the quest for statehood among sub-national groups, namely nationalism, self-determination and sovereignty. Nationalism, to begin with, should be separated from the state. As it is, all nationalisms do not aim at sovereign statehood for the groups involved; a nationalist is not ipso facto a separatist. There are many political forms other than an own nation-state (narrowly defined) to advance communal interests.2 Second, nationalists could paint themselves into a corner if they conceive of self-determination as having an external dimension only, that is independent statehood. They need to work with the notion of internal self-determination, which can be expressed through a variety of political arrangements, including territorial or cultural autonomy. Sovereignty, finally, should be treated not as the exclusive preserve of the central authorities of the state, but instead as a collection of functions exercised at different levels of society. The ‘unbundling’ of sovereignty has shifted it from the centre to sub-national authorities and even to individuals.3

Keating drew these threads together in his portrayal of new minority or regional nationalisms as being ‘post-nation-state in inspiration, addressing a world in which sovereignty has ceased to be absolute and power is dispersed’. To promote their nationalist programmes, these groups act at different levels. They are located within state political systems, international regimes and the international order generally. ‘The most successful are those able to play in all these arenas simultaneously. This requires access to the state and to the international regime, as well as links with domestic and international economic actors.’4

Such alternative conceptions of nationalism, self-determination and sovereignty are already well developed in the theory and practice of conflict prevention and resolution.5 Many of the options we will record are indeed drawn from the scholarly literature in these fields.

The alternatives listed could be employed for both remedial and preventive purposes: they provide existing contested states and their major external stakeholders with possible ways out of the present impasse, and they offer aspirant state founders with alternatives – short of sovereign independence – to the cul-de-sac of contested statehood. First, though, typical foreign responses to contested states will be identified.

International reactions to contested states

The ways in which confirmed states could deal with contested states can be placed on a continuum ranging from the one ‘extreme’ of military action to suppress a unilateral bid for statehood to the other ‘extreme’ of de jure recognition. For contested states the latter reaction is obviously the most desirable yet the hardest to attain, whereas the military response is the least preferable.

The ingrained international hostility to secession usually means that the state experiencing a break-away bid can count on the backing of its peers in preserving its territorial integrity. The most drastic external support would be military intervention on the side of the original state to restore the status quo ante. Such military action could be taken by states individually or collectively under the authority of a multilateral organization.

The next response is the international isolation of a contested state. This reaction may accompany a predecessor state’s military response to a secessionist bid, or isolation may be pursued as an alternative to the use of force. We are referring to the deliberate, orchestrated international ostracism of a contested state after its declaration of independence. The extreme form of political isolation is the general non-recognition of an entity’s claims to statehood. From this rejection flow various kinds of diplomatic isolation, such as the absence of official bilateral representation and exclusion from inter-governmental organizations. Economic isolation typically involves the application of sanctions aimed at restricting the flow of goods, capital and technology to and from a contested state. Such measures could be authorized by the UN Security Council or some regional organization or be imposed by states individually. Ostracism can also extend to the military domain, which means that a contested state faces restrictions on importing arms and military equipment and engaging in other military relations with foreign states. Socio-cultural isolation covers a wide field, from sports and academic boycotts of a contested state to restrictions on its nationals’ ability to travel abroad.

Foreign indifference to the existence of contested states is an option located towards the middle of our continuum of responses. In what amounts to benign neglect, confirmed states simply ignore the putative state. They neither apply punitive measures against the non-recognized polity nor seek to engage it diplomatically, economically or otherwise. Their interactions are minimal, rarely extending beyond a modest amount of trade. It is an easy and inexpensive response for states that are geographically distant from the contested entity (and its original state) and have little to do with either.

Engagement, next, implies others’ limited acceptance of a contested state.6 In rare cases states might regard such de facto recognition as a forerunner of de jure recognition. However, engagement is in most instances deliberately tentative and restricted, informed by a variety of considerations. One is obviously the factual existence of the aspirant state, to which might be added its stability and durability. Engagement could also be motivated by such instrumental factors as strategic and military importance, economic gains and domestic political motives. Affective factors like ethnic identity, religion, ideology and humanitarian concerns can also come into play.7

The forms of engagement can conveniently be placed in the same broad categories as those of isolation. Obviously political and diplomatic engagement will be facilitated if the original state does not deliberately block or strenuously object to such interactions.8 But even without the predecessor state’s approval, others could conduct government-to-government talks and establish reciprocal representative or liaison offices.9 Alternatively diplomatic involvement – whether bilateral or multilateral – could be designed to promote a resolution of the conflict between a contested state and its original state.10

Economic engagement in the form of trade, investment and technology transfer may be relatively uncontentious, unless the UN Security Council has ordered economic sanctions against a contested state. While many confirmed states may be wary of promoting trade with a contested state, they may adopt a laissez-faire approach by allowing their nationals to conduct commercial relations with a non-recognized state at their own risk. Where extensive economic ties exist, these may serve as a platform for representative offices. Apart from mere material gain, external economic involvement could be used to support conflict resolution initiatives at the political level. Ending the economic isolation of a contested state could make it more amenable to finding a peaceful settlement of its conflict with its former central state. Economic engagement may in some instances also help to free the political economy of a contested state from the grip of criminal elements.11

Most confirmed states would shy away from overt military ties with a contested state, not least for fear of antagonizing the original state. The major exception is of course the contested entity’s patron state. An entirely different form of military engagement would be participation in an international peacekeeping mission in a contested state or on its border with its original state. Normal socio-cultural engagement could also be problematic. A contested state’s lack of formal recognition and diplomatic ties as well as its general isolation may make it an unattractive destination for tourists, sportspeople, artists and other visitors from abroad.

The final external response on our continuum is de jure external recognition of a secessionist entity’s claims to statehood. While this is the grand prize cherished by contested states, the record shows it is very rarely achieved; few if any of today’s contested states are likely to reach confirmed statehood.

Inter-state options

Options of an inter-state character involve a contested entity and at least one confirmed state. Most of the eight alternatives would leave contested states with a high level of autonomy and the retention of several features of statehood. As mentioned, straightforward de jure recognition of existing contested states is not included in the inventory because it is in most cases a remote possibility. Conditional recognition is, however, considered in the section entitled ‘International status’. We will not pay attention to suzerainty – the creation of a vassal state – because the institution has fallen into disuse.12 A very different scenario also excluded from the survey is what could be depicted as denationalization through globalization: a process which, according to some observers, could replace group-based loyalties and emotional attachments to a particular territory with a new stateless, global ‘identity’.13 While this may yet prove a powerful force in some societies, it is a long-term process largely beyond the control of conflicting parties. Our interest is in immediate, manageable plans to resolve and prevent conflicts over statehood.

Confederations

Although confederations should strictly speaking also be excluded – their constituent members are fully independent states14 – there have been some interesting developments worth noting. The first is that successor states born of agreed partition may well form themselves into a confederation, thus acknowledging both the individual independence and mutual interdependence of the new polities. The Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS, established in December 1991 by 11 former Soviet republics, with another joining later) embodies these very considerations.

As part of a bold plan for lasting peace in conflict-ridden Central Africa, Griggs has proposed ‘a confederated Great Lakes Region composed of tribes, city-states and other grassroots structures that give freer play to both local, regional, and global scales of human organisation’. His grand scheme for resolving conflict over boundaries in the area rests on the recognition of state borders as ‘soft, flexible, and mobile’ and on more decentralized planning by the countries involved. Griggs’ ‘geography of loosely aligned states, regions and city-states’ would include Zaire, Rwanda and Burundi, and possibly also Uganda and Tanzania.15 With such an array of constituent elements, this would be a highly unconventional confederation. Griggs’ proposal could nonetheless offer novel alternatives to independent statehood for separatist groups in several of the states just mentioned.

A less unorthodox but still ambitious confederation has been mooted for Central Asia. Following the dissolution of the Soviet empire, Turkish President Suleyman Demirel spoke hopefully of a revived Turkic commonwealth extending from the Adriatic to China. It would join Turkey in a confederation with five former Soviet republics whose official languages have Turkic roots: Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan and Azerbaijan.16 If the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus were to join – an exceedingly unlikely prospect – it would reduce the isolation caused by the territory’s contested statehood.

Another unconventional confederation – with an inter-state character of sorts – has been suggested by Galtung. He made a case for a confederation of autonomies of peoples of the same nation across the borders of the states in which they live. This could apply to the Kurds, for instance, and so possibly avert a secessionist bid and the emergence of another contested state. Relations between the Catholics in Northern Ireland and the Irish Republic may also develop in the direction of a confederation of autonomies.17

Condominiums

Historically condominiums were established to resolve territorial disputes between states, but the arrangement might help to settle a particular type of contemporary ethnic-cum-territorial conflict. There are two basic forms of condominium. One provides for territorial self-government in the specific area, with final authority vested in the condominium powers. This arrangement applies to the Franco-Spanish condominium of Andorra, the oldest and most successful living example. Since acquiring statehood in 1278 Andorra’s rights and freedoms have been jointly guaranteed by its two neighbours, France and Spain. Under its 1993 constitution Andorra became a parliamentary democracy and sovereignty is shared between the Andorran people and the country’s two ‘co-princes’ – the President of France and the Bishop of Urgell in Spain – who jointly remain head of state.18 The other model involves a non-territorial division of the disputed territory, with each foreign power retaining supreme authority over its respective subjects while exercising equal dominion or sovereignty through an autonomous local administration. An example is the AngloFrench South Pacific condominium of New Hebrides, which existed from 1906 until 1980 when the territory became the independent state of Vanuatu.19

Condominium is a rare option that involves compromising territorial claims at both inter- and intra-state levels. It would only be relevant for a multi-ethnic contested state that is claimed by two or more existing states that may also have kinship ties with local communities.20 The sole candidate among contemporary contested states that could remotely have qualified is Kosovo, if Serbia and Albania had been prepared to exercise joint jurisdiction over the territory (with its concurrence, of course). Kashmir, designated by the UN as an occupied territory whose final status has yet to be decided, could in theory qualify for a condominium under the joint jurisdiction of India and Pakistan. However, this would be exceedingly difficult to achieve given the historic enmity between the two powers, compounded by pro-independence sentiments in the Indian-controlled part of the divided territory.21

Free association

Originally conceived by the UN to cater for dependent territories regarded as too small and poor to become economically viable and politically stable independent states, associated statehood is based on a contractual protective relationship between such an entity and an adjacent, larger and more advanced state. The non-self-governing territories could then enter into a ‘free association’ with an established state as an expression of selfdetermination.22 One precondition is that the association must be the result of ‘free and voluntary choice by the peoples of the territory concerned expressed through informed and democratic processes’. Another requirement is that the associated territory has the right to determine its internal constitution without foreign interference, but allowance is made for ‘consultations as appropriate or necessary’ under the terms of the association agreement.23 The reserved powers of the larger state (the principal) – usually defense and foreign affairs – should not give that party substantial discretion to intervene in the domestic affairs of the junior partner (the associate).24

In due course most of the dependent territories in free associations have advanced to independent statehood – while retaining their associated status. They have joined the UN and regional organizations, where they exercise their rights independent of their principals. Several associated states have also established their own diplomatic networks and acceded to multilateral treaties. By contrast the Cook Islands and Niue, associated with New Zealand, do not seem interested in independence or UN membership, but are nonetheless keen to play an active role on the international stage.25 As Crawford pointed out, it is possible for an entity that is substantially dependent under its constituent instruments – as with an associated state – ‘to acquire a measure of independence through independent action and the acceptance by other States of its capacity for independent action’.26

Apart from the association of the Cook Islands and Niue with New Zealand, other examples are the former West Indies Associated States (six states – Antigua, Dominica, Grenada, St Kitts-Nevis-Anguilla, St Lucia and St Vincent – associated with Britain); the Associated State of St Kitts-Nevis-Anguilla (also with Britain); the Freely Associated States of Micronesia (being the Federated States of Micronesia, Republic of the Marshall Islands and Republic of Palau, associated with the US); the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico (also associated with the US), and the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands (the US). All these arrangements comprise several ‘substantial elements’. The first, already alluded to, is significant powers of self-government. Associated states usually control such matters as education, taxation, infrastructure and the judicial system. Second, the associate always has the unilateral right under international law to withdraw from the association arrangement. Third, the inhabitants of an associated state may enjoy citizenship rights in the larger state. Fourth, the stronger partners typically provide economic assistance to the weaker. Finally, the principal usually assumes responsibility for the defense of its associate.27

Could associated statehood be applied to contested states? The attraction of free association lies in its intermediate status between independence and integration.28 As such the formula involves a compromise: on the one hand the original state will not be fully restored through the complete reintegration of the contested state, and on the other hand the contested state will have to scale down its ambitions of full-fledged independence. The contested state will moreover have to accept the status of junior partner in an unequal power relationship. It will nonetheless be assured of substantial self-government, enjoy international status even to the extent of qualified independence and membership of the UN, and be permitted to engage in foreign relations of its own. This application of associated statehood differs from the conventional format in that it involves only two parties (the contested state and the original state) and it is not of the ‘saltwater’ variety (where the senior partner is located overseas).

A potential problem area is that the associate has the unilateral right to terminate its free association with the principal. This means that the erstwhile contested state could withdraw from the arrangement, reassert its earlier independence and treat its former principal as a foreign state. It is a possibility with which the senior partner will have to contend and – if it regards the association arrangement as important enough – try to prevent such a contingency by making it worth the associate’s while to remain in what is usually designed as a voluntary but durable partnership.29

The Hong Kong option

There are some parallels between the associated status just discussed and that of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region of the People’s Republic of China. The former British colony has a novel constitutional arrangement inconsistent with conventional notions of sovereignty: it is not juridically independent, yet boasts a distinct international legal status recognized by states.30 An outstanding feature of Hong Kong’s present order is its powers in foreign relations; the region enjoys ‘probably the most extensive external autonomy that has ever existed in an autonomous region in the world, historical or current’, according to Xu and Wilson.31 A ‘one state, two systems’ formula comparable to that of Hong Kong within the Chinese state is what Beijing has long proposed for Taiwan. The latter has steadfastly rejected unification as long as mainland China remains under communist dictatorship. ‘Self-government through an autonomous arrangement’, also resembling that of Hong Kong, has likewise been mooted for Tibet by groups opposed to Beijing’s direct rule over the territory.32

Protected states and protectorates

Protected statehood can also be regarded as a form of associated status, but the former usually involves two states only and they may be geographically proximate. According to Shaw, a protected state ‘retains its status as a separate state but enters into a valid treaty relationship with another state affording the latter certain extensive functions possibly internally and externally’.33 Because of this transfer of authority to another state, protected states have been variously portrayed as ‘non-fully independent territories’, ‘semi-sovereign states’ and ‘a new form of international person, a sort of pre-state’. Examples include Morocco’s earlier relationship with France under a bilateral treaty of 1912, Malaya, the British-protected Trucial States in the Persian Gulf, and the Indian territories of Bhutan and Sikkim.34

The division of powers between protector and protected states can vary. The latter may simply be obliged to take note of the advice of the protecting state, or it may involve ‘a form of diplomatic delegation subject to instruction’, as with Liechtenstein. Because Liechtenstein had surrendered sovereign powers to neighboring Switzerland, it was considered incapable of discharging the international obligations imposed by the Covenant of the League of Nations and accordingly denied membership. Even so, Liechtenstein was in many respects treated as a sovereign state. In 1990 it joined the UN. Switzerland still conducts Liechtenstein’s routine diplomatic affairs; the two countries maintain uniform customs, immigration and border policies; and Liechtenstein uses the Swiss currency.35

We should distinguish between a protected state and a protectorate. Mostly internal colonial arrangements, protectorates came about through treaties of protection between a colonial power and tribal entities that were not states. While legal personality may be involved under a protectorate arrangement, separate statehood is not. Somaliland was proclaimed a British protectorate in 1884. The territory retained this status until 1960, when it became independent for a few days prior to unification with the former Italian colony of Somaliland to form the new sovereign state of Somalia. In 1991 Somaliland issued a unilateral declaration of independence – and promptly became a contested state. Bechuanaland was first placed under British colonial protection in 1885, achieving independence in 1966.36 A colonial background also shaped the status of Mayotte as a French overseas Collectivité départementale. Part of the Comoros archipelago, Mayotte is an integral part of the French Republic with representation in both the National Assembly and the Senate in Paris, as well as in the European Parliament. Executive power in Mayotte is exercised by the President of the locally elected General Council. A protective relationship of sorts also applies to Réunion, elevated to an Overseas Department of France in 1974, with the status of a region.37

With colonialism over, the notions of protected states and protectorates may seem outdated. They have, however, lately reappeared in the guise of de facto trusteeships. These are not the old UN trusteeships provided for in the Charter, but transitional administrations usually authorized by the Security Council. Resembling protectorates, the new form of trusteeship is a temporary measure designed to either prepare a dependent territory for de jure statehood or, conceivably, create conditions for the restoration of the legal sovereignty of a collapsed state. Namibia and East Timor were placed under UN administrations during their transitions from external occupation to sovereign independence, while Kosovo was placed under de facto UN trusteeship in 1999 pending a decision on its final status.38 Kosovo’s assumption of independence in February 2008 has not ended the UN presence there.

International status

Under this rubric we will be recording several proposals that involve foreign parties in creating or upholding an international status for particular entities. First, international status can be given to sub-national units like cities and regions. Examples of ‘internationalized territories’ include the Free City of Danzig (1450–1793, 1919–39), the Free City of Cracow (1815–46), the international zone of Tangier (1923–56), the Memel Territory (1924–39), and the Free City of Trieste (1947–75). An international status has also been proposed for Jerusalem to break the deadlock caused by rival Israeli and Palestinian claims to jurisdiction over the holy city. International status might be considered for contested cities and regions elsewhere, whether the contestants are from rival states or from opposing factions within the same state.39

The second proposal, Gottlieb’s, calls for an international status for nations lacking their own states. At one level his scheme provides for the granting of a formal non-territorial status and a recognized standing internationally’ for such nations. That standing would be analogous to the position that the Maastricht Treaty has afforded regions in the European Union. Gottlieb envisaged that non-territorial communities could be granted similar standing in other regional organizations like the Council of Europe and the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe.40 At another more ambitious level Gottlieb argued for the formal extension of the existing system of states to allow for a parallel international system of nations. Participating nations would be accorded a new international legal standing that does not require the creation of new sovereign states. Under this proposal the UN General Assembly would create a novel status of ‘Associated People of the United Nations’ for nations that are democratically organized on a non-territorial basis. The member nations should gain the right to become parties to different types of treaties, address selected UN organs and participate in the work of international bodies.41

A third and entirely different kind of international status has been proposed for and indeed applied to some aspirant states. It goes by various names, including ‘earned recognition’, ‘qualified independence’ and ‘conditional statehood’. In a preparatory phase the entity would be groomed for sovereign independence, as in the case of contemporary de facto trusteeship. To ensure internationally recognized independence the entity should make adequate provision in its laws and political structures for upholding specific standards of conduct. These could relate to observing democracy, individual human rights and minority rights; respecting international borders; resolving disputes peacefully; combating international terrorism, and preventing the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction. Former republics of the Yugoslav federation gained internationally recognized statehood under such conditions.

Conditional statehood could, in the fourth place, extend beyond a purported state’s pre-independence obligations to include post-independence commitments as well. The latter could be formalized in an international accord freely concluded between the emerging state and foreign parties, possibly acting under the aegis of a multilateral organization. The agreement could provide for external monitoring of the actual observance of pre-independence undertakings and ways of dealing with non-compliance. Proposals to this effect have been made for Kosovo and Nagorno Karabagh, as our case studies will record. A related fifth type of international status allows for direct foreign involvement in the authority structures of a new state. Krasner called it a system of shared sovereignty, which should be based on a voluntary agreement between the parties involved.42 In both the latter arrangements, which could be combined in practice, the new entity would enjoy international legal sovereignty but its autonomy would be restricted. A further external element that could be added to both formulas would be international guarantees of statehood. Foreign parties thus act as the guarantors of the new country’s independence by protecting it against external and internal threats. Such provisions could be openended or limited in duration by means of a sunset clause in the relevant agreements.

While exceptional, conditional statehood is not unknown. Consider the restoration of Austria’s independence in 1955 under the Austrian State Treaty concluded by the four occupying powers. They agreed to withdraw, while Austria by law became a permanently neutral state. Cyprus can rightly be called an ‘international state’ because it was given independence in 1960 by three foreign powers – Britain, Greece and Turkey – who under a formal treaty also served as guarantors of its independence.43 Particular versions of conditional independence might in at least some cases offer a way out of the impasse in which contested states and their opponents find themselves.

Regional entities

So-called regional states or region-states come in two shapes, neither of which constitutes a separate new state but their creation involves international cooperation. The more ambitious version is an economic zone composed of two or more whole states (say, the US, Canada and Mexico, or the states of West Africa). The lesser form joins adjacent regions located in different states together in an economic unit. Examples of the latter type are found in the Baltic region, the Barents Sea area (linking the northwestern regions of Russia with Finland and Sweden), both banks of the Rhine River, the Vienna-Budapest-Prague triangle, the two sides of the Alps in France and Italy, and both the French and Spanish parts of the eastern Pyrenées. Whether on an inter-state or sub-state basis, the purpose of economic integration is the development of the region.44

Herbst has in turn proposed that foreign donors should devise aid projects in Africa ‘with a true regional scope and which allocate funds to recipients irrespective of the country they are in’. By treating sections of Africa as regions instead of using existing states as the ‘unit of analysis’, donors could according to Herbst advance the development of a new intellectual framework for considering alternatives to the current state system in Africa. This quest is motivated by the need to replace Africa’s dysfunctional states (what others have called failed or quasi-states) with more viable units – which may not necessarily be sovereign states.45 If a rebellious region could be involved in – and derive both material and symbolic benefits from – a transnational economic zone or a regional development area, it may go some way towards dampening secessionist fervour and preventing the emergence of a contested state.

Should an economic region have a largely homogenous population, the entity could at the same time constitute a transnational cultural domain.46 This resembles Gottlieb’s idea of a national home, being an entity with defined geographic frontiers that extends across state borders. Members of the same ethnic group living in adjacent independent states could thus be drawn together in a national home. They would retain the citizenship of their existing states while enjoying the nationality of their common group, thereby expressing the shared identity of the inhabitants of the national home. The central governments of the states involved would decide on the delegation of powers to the national home. The most obvious candidates for a national home are the Kurds. Again, the option is proposed as an alternative to all-out statehood for the Kurds at the expense of the territorial integrity of their existing countries of residence.47 Abdullah Ocalan, jailed leader of the Kurdistan Workers’ Party, a rebel movement in Turkey, evidently had a similar scheme in mind with his Declaration of Democratic Confederalism in Kurdistan, issued in 2005. He proposed that the Kurdish areas of Turkey, Iran Iraq and Syria be united in a cross-border ‘confederation’. Although the entity should have a name and its own flag, Ocalan emphasized that it would not be a sovereign state – a recognition of the fierce opposition of the four states involved to the creation of a Kurdish state out of slices of their national territories.48 The term ‘confederation’ is then a misnomer for what amounts to a transnational cultural domain.

The notion of a ‘Europe of the Regions’ combines regional integration and sub-national autonomy. It is based on the principle of subsidiarity, meaning government tasks should be performed at the level closest to the people – embodied in the 1992 (Maastricht) Treaty on European Union. Should subsidiarity be applied fully, Europe’s ‘nations without states’ could gain a new international status: the English, Scots and Catalonians, among others, would ‘sit at the same table enjoying a similar degree of political autonomy’ while most of their policies are decided by a European Parliament in which they are all represented.49 Such a scenario embodies two important developments. First, it is indicative of the rise of nations without states as global political actors in the 21st century, functioning within international or supranational political and economic institutions.50 The second development concerns a redefinition of independence and sovereignty on the part of long-standing nationalist movements in the Western world in particular. Doyle referred to a new ‘cosmopolitan nationalism’ and ‘flexible sovereignty’ guiding political movements that have converted themselves from nationalist-separatist parties in the traditional mould to regional autonomy parties. The Scottish, Catalan and Basque communities, to name a few, have political vehicles sharing a vision of national self-determination that is comfortable with European integration, open to a globalized world, and articulates a relative conception of sovereignty which accepts that key economic, monetary and possibly security policies will no longer be decided at the level of the independent state.51

Talbott drew on ‘the great experiment in Europe’ in arguing that the rise of interdependence between states offered a better remedy for separatist conflicts than did secession. This alternative is ‘to combine the promotion of democracy on the part of the central government with an effort to help would-be break-away areas benefit from cross-border economic development and political cooperation’. The protection of the rights of minorities through a democratic order provided the best insurance against separatism. Once they feel secure in their identities and neighborhoods – as many European minorities do – groups in Asia, Africa and elsewhere should feel confident enough to seize the opportunities offered by porous borders and interlinked economies – the products of globalization ‘and its sub-phenomenon, regionalization’.52

Territorial rightsizing

A final and very different inter-state alternative is the so-called rightsizing of existing states. By adjusting established international frontiers, a region may be excised from one state and added to an adjacent country, or neighbouring states could exchange portions of territory. This could be done to (re)unite members of a particular ethnic group, especially if they had previously formed part of a single political entity. Thus a group may wish to leave an existing political union not to form their own, but to join another. An illustration of such a mixed secessionist-irredentist claim is the Transylvanian people of Romania, who desire becoming part of Hungary. More ambitiously, boundary adjustments could be designed to achieve greater correspondence between state frontiers and ethnic identities.53

Africa is arguably the continent most in need of territorial rightsizing. ‘There is nothing remiss about altering state frontiers in the nobler interests of domestic tranquillity and economic growth, which are now so scarce in these [African] lands’, Chege wrote in 1991.54 Another African intellectual, Mazrui, made the bold claim that over the coming century ‘the outlines of most present-day African states’ will change in one of two major ways. First, ethnic self-determination will create smaller states, as in the case of Eritrea’s divorce from Ethiopia. This separation broke the post-colonial taboo of officially endorsed secession. Second, regional integration will lead Africa towards larger political communities and economic unions. These two factors, he foresaw, will loosen the ‘bondage of boundaries’ in the continent.55 Wole Soyinka, the Nigerian author and Nobel laureate, joined in with an impassioned plea to Africans to ‘sit down with square-rule and compass and redesign the boundaries of African nations’. The horrors of the Rwanda genocide made it abundantly clear that Africans ‘cannot evade this historical challenge any longer’.56 A more specific proposal ‘to disassemble African states and reconfigure them’ was made by wa Mutua in the mid-1990s. Motivated by the need to ‘legitimize the African state and avoid its demise’, wa Mutua’s radical new cartography envisaged the 53 existing African states being compressed into 14 larger entities.57

Herbst made a case for ‘greater flexibility in national design’ as a means towards increasing the congruence between the way power is actually exercised in Africa and the design of political units. He acknowledged that there are few ‘natural’ borders in Africa that correspond with ethnic, economic or geographic realities. Herbst was also sensitive to the concern that the recognition of new African states born of redrawn boundaries could set off a fragmentation process producing ever-smaller polities. However, ‘the reality of disintegrating, dysfunctional African states stands in such contrast to the legal fiction of sovereign states’, he countered, that ‘experimentation with regard to new states’ was warranted. The borders drawn arbitrarily during the scramble for Africa were no longer tenable and the time was ripe to discard the ‘dogmatic devotion’ to inherited boundaries. To prevent an uncontrollable proliferation of new African states, Herbst proposed strict criteria for state recognition.58

Territorial adjustments are admittedly easier advocated than executed, especially in Africa. The Cairo Resolution, adopted by the Organization of African Unity in 1964, proclaimed that ‘the borders of African States, on the day of their independence, constitute a tangible reality’ and member states had a duty to respect inherited colonial boundaries.59 At stake is also a principle of international law. In implementing the right of self-determination, the 1970 Declaration on Friendly Relations among States read, no action may be taken ‘which would dismember or impair, totally or in part, the territorial integrity or political unity of sovereign and independent States’. However, if rightsizing is not of an order that would require massive population transfers and leave the affected state(s) severely dismembered and impoverished, this option could lead the parties involved to an amicable parting of the ways and avoid the emergence of contested states.

Intra-state arrangements

The next set of alternatives contains ways of accommodating population diversity, especially in what Lijphart termed deeply divided or plural societies, marked by pronounced cleavages along religious, ideological, linguistic, cultural, ethnic or racial lines ‘into virtually separate subsocieties’.60 These are essentially compromise options that may resolve ethnic conflicts and forestall secessionist bids. A good many of the alternatives provide for some form of power-sharing, that is the involvement of representatives of all significant communities in political decision-making. This is not coincidental: ‘one common feature marking those societies that have been able to remain peaceful despite conflicts of language, religion, or ethnicity’, Bogdanor observed, is that none followed the Westminster model of majority rule. Instead, they opted for power-sharing, often not only in parliaments and cabinets but also in the civil service, judiciary, police and military.61 Alternatively, communities could be granted substantial powers of self-government or autonomy. The intra-state alternatives would thus restore or preserve the territorial integrity of the original state and preclude independent statehood for sub-national groups while allowing for a meaningful improvement in their position. Many of the options overlap or are complementary, allowing for a combination of arrangements in practice.

A return to the status quo ante through a contested state’s reincorporation into its original state does not feature among the intra-state alternatives. We should acknowledge, though, that the restoration of the old order may occur if a contested state is militarily defeated by the original state (like Katanga and Biafra) or lacks the material resources and political will to continue its rebellion. With our focus now on compromise solutions, this zerosum outcome (like conventional recognition) is by definition precluded from the range of alternatives to the status quo. Since we are interested in arrangements that accommodate demographic diversity, we should also rule out measures to eliminate ethnic differences, including genocide (the mass-extermination of an ethnic collectivity), forced mass-population transfers (ethnic cleansing) and compulsory assimilation (the merging of differences to create a common ethnic identity).62 For the same reason we exclude ‘control regimes’ in the shape of coercive domination (like apartheid in South Africa and previous Serb policy in Kosovo) and co-opted rule (as in colonial regimes).63

Federalism

It is appropriate to begin with federalism, one of the most familiar political formulas for the accommodation of population plurality. Multinational federations, which are especially relevant for our purposes, belong to what Lijphart termed an incongruent type of federation. This is where internal boundaries tend to coincide with ethnic borders. (In congruent federations the territorial components display social and cultural characteristics that are similar in each unit and in the federation as a whole.)64 One of the attractions of federalism is that it offers a group that constitutes a minority in the population at large but a majority in a specific territorial area the opportunity to exercise some local autonomy or self-government, meaning the group has the authority to conduct its own internal affairs, particularly in the realms of culture and education. Another is that federalbased recognition of minority groups allows for the management of intergroup conflicts that could otherwise culminate in violence, territorial fragmentation and the proliferation of ‘mini-statelets of limited viability’. Finally, the preservation of minority group rights through a federal arrangement can be defended as a counter to cultural assimilation into a majority community.65

An essential feature of a federation is that the central and provincial or regional governments have separate spheres of power, but may also have concurrent powers.66 All the component units of a federation may have equal powers, or the national constitution can provide for an asymmetric arrangement. In the latter case some provinces have greater powers than others, whether in recognition of their separate identities and distinct interests or simply to pre-empt secessionist pressures. The Basque region and Catalonia in Spain and Tatarstan in Russia are examples of such federal units. The Russian case is particularly interesting given the size and diversity of its self-styled ‘democratic federate rule-of-law state’. The country is home to over 60 officially recognized minority nationalities and Russia comprises no fewer than 89 ‘federal subjects’, of which 21 are higher-status ethno-republics and 68 are lower-level subjects (regions, territories, autonomous districts and the federal cities of Moscow and St Petersburg). The accommodation of national minorities occurs largely through representation at the ethno-republic level. Such is the extent of asymmetry that dozens of its 89 constituent units enjoy varying degrees of privileged status, none more so than Tatarstan. Among the other contemporary federations catering for population diversity are Belgium, Switzerland and Canada.67

In both asymmetrical and some ‘standard’ federations, the component units have become energetic actors on the world stage, even enjoying the status of persons under international law.68

A moot point about federalism in general and the decentralization of power to ethnically-based regions in particular, is whether this arrangement would inflate or deflate ethnic nationalism and thus encourage or erode demands for separate statehood. Some scholars maintain that federalism tends to reduce nationalism; others argue the very opposite, while a third position holds that the strength of nationalism is not determined by federalism per se.69 While federalism’s mixed record as a device for regulating conflict in multinational states could deter some rulers, choosing this option may be a risk worth taking if other alternatives hold less promise of preserving peace and territorial unity.

For a disaffected community, federalism means – as with our other intrastate alternatives – renouncing claims to full statehood. Very few federations allow constituent units the option of divorce. Although Russia’s original Federal Treaty of 1992 gave ethno-republics the right to secede, the 1993 federal constitution conferred no such right. Chechnya and Tatarstan are the only two republics that have since 1991 sought independence from Moscow, whereas their counterparts agitate for greater autonomy only.70 Ethiopia’s current federal constitution is exceptional in acknowledging ‘an unconditional right to self-determination, including the right to secession’ for ‘every nation, nationality and people’ in the country.

Other forms of territorial autonomy

It is possible for a self-defined community to enjoy autonomy within a state framework without a full-blown federation being created. Territorial autonomy can be implemented to varying degrees, ranging from administrative autonomy (executive discretion within the framework of central laws) to full self-government (where a group elects its own legislature and assumes responsibility for most of the executive and administrative functions normally undertaken by central state institutions).71 Autonomy arrangements go by several other designations too, including devolution, decentralization, self-rule and cantonization. The latter is of course associated with Switzerland – admittedly a federation – and involves ‘a micropartition in which political power is devolved to (conceivably very small) political units, each of which enjoys mini-sovereignty’. The cantons are built on the recognition of ethnic diversity and permit asymmetrical relations among themselves and between cantons and the federal government. Cantonization is similar to but not coterminous with federalism as a device for managing ethnic heterogeneity. For one thing, the regions or provinces in federations are normally far larger than cantons.72 Whatever the designation and scale of the units, we are in essence dealing with the devolution of political power to a political entity that is substantially controlled by an ethnic minority and by and large corresponds with their historical territory (for example, Scotland and the Basque region).73

Among the rights and powers that communities can exercise are those relating to political matters (including the choice of a people to be ruled by leaders of their own community, and the structures of representative government), economic and financial affairs (natural resources, infrastructure, industry, tax collection and the like), judicial administration and law enforcement (courts of law and police service), socio-cultural interests (education, language, museums, religion and other aspects related to the protection of collective identity and dignity), international involvement (representation in some global and regional organizations and participation in international conferences), and care for the natural environment.74

Practical examples of extensive communal autonomy abound. The Sami people of Finland not only enjoy regional autonomy through their elected parliament, but they also have the authority to represent the community at the international level. Only four subject-matters are excluded from the jurisdiction of the Crimean autonomous republic in Ukraine: national defence, monetary policy, the maintenance of national frontiers, and certain aspects of international relations. Greenland’s home rule embraces far reaching domestic and foreign aspects. The territory has, for instance, withdrawn from the EU, while Denmark remains a member. In Britain, powers have been devolved from the centre to Northern Ireland as well as Wales and Scotland. In the latter case this move was not unrelated to the presence of a vocal independence movement. Among the other communities for which autonomy arrangements have been made, are the Inuits in Canada, Kuna Yala in Panama, the indigenous people of the Chittagong Hill region in Bangladesh, the German community in South Tyrol, the German minority in Belgium and national minorities in Estonia.75 In the Union of the Comoros the three constituent islands enjoy considerable autonomy, each with its own president, government and legislative assembly. The islands freely administer their respective affairs, establish their own fundamental laws and are financially autonomous. The position of President of the Union (head of state) rotates between the three islands.76

It should be reiterated that, despite enjoying extensive autonomy, the particular community or region remains an integral part of the state concerned, is represented (whether as a group or as individual citizens) in the national legislature and is firmly integrated into the national economy. The purpose of giving the community maximum autonomy is not to encourage centripetal forces, but instead to steer it away from ‘the slippery slope to state-shattering secession’.77

Non-territorial autonomy

Up to now we have focused on territorially-based autonomy for specific minorities. While perhaps less fashionable and appealing, powers of self-government need not be territorially bound; they can be exercised by members of a community regardless of where they live in the state. This is known as group or cultural autonomy, non-territorial autonomy or, where appropriate, corporate federalism.78 The idea is often traced back to the millet system of autonomy for religious groups in the Ottoman Empire. In the late 19th century Austrian social democrats Karl Renner and Otto Bauer proposed a democratic version of cultural autonomy in the Habsburg monarchy. Their plan, never implemented, combined the conventional territorial principle of representation with a ‘personality principle’.79 Russia is one country that nowadays acknowledges the rights of cultural autonomy of communities not represented as constituent federal units. Its dispersed German minority exercises such rights, but has also been allowed to establish two culturally autonomous districts within Omsk and Altai.80 In their post-1919 constitutions Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia guaranteed a measure of cultural and educational autonomy to national minorities. Upon regaining their independence in 1990 and 1991, the three Baltic states reintroduced some of these provisions.81 Nonterritorial autonomy has proven successful in India, Belgium and the Netherlands too, and has been proposed as a supplement to territorial divisions of power for communities living geographically interspersed in Northern Ireland, South Tyrol-Alto Adige and some parts of Central and Eastern Europe.82

Consociational democracy

Based on the recognition of ethnic pluralism, consociational democracy is designed to secure the identities, rights, freedoms and opportunities of all ethnic groups and to create institutions that allow them to enjoy the benefits of equality. It rests on four basic principles: government by grand coalition involving parties from different segments of society; segmental autonomy, especially in the cultural domain; proportionality in political representation, civil service employment and the allocation of public funds; and minority vetoes on issues vital to minorities. Classic examples of consociation include Switzerland, Austria, the Netherlands and Belgium; more recently a consociational model was introduced in Bosnia and Herzegovina under the Dayton Peace Agreement (1995). The fact that this system failed in Cyprus, Lebanon, Fiji and Malaysia suggests that particular societal conditions need to exist for consociational democracy to succeed. These include overarching loyalties binding the different groups together, a small number of competing political parties in each segment, roughly equally-sized segments, and a tradition of compromise among political elites.83

Given its stringent conditions for success, consociational democracy may have limited relevance for the conflict situations on which our inquiry focuses. Other less demanding techniques of power-sharing could be more appropriate in addressing the political marginalization and alienation of communities.

Multiculturalism

Advocates of multiculturalism like to remind us of the established fact that no contemporary state is entirely homogenous ‘as a single culture and breeding population’; most states contain no fewer than five ethnic groups. While sharing the same territory, different groups may wish to maintain their distinct cultures. The classic model of multicultural politics is to be found in the late Austro-Hungarian Empire. In some regions every citizen had the right to freely choose his or her own ethnicity, and each ethnic community was guaranteed representation in the provincial parliament in proportion to its share of the population – regardless of where the members were located territorially.84

Multiculturalism is the foundation for the notion of cultural liberty, as propounded by the UN Development Programme in its Human Development Report 2004. Cultural liberty is said to be about ‘allowing people the freedom to choose their identities – and to lead the lives they value – without being excluded from other choices important to them’, for instance in education, health and employment. This requires states to recognize cultural differences in their constitutions, laws and institutions. They should also devise policies to ensure that the interests of particular communities are not ignored or overridden by the majority or by dominant groups. The Report singled out five key areas requiring multicultural policies. In the domain of political participation, multicultural democracy requires effective mechanisms for power sharing or self-government. Specific policies are also needed to ensure religious freedom, legal pluralism, the use of various languages, and advance justice and equality in the socio-economic sphere.85 Most of these prescriptions also feature under our other intra-state alternatives already recorded.

Further options

For the sake of brevity other known techniques for the political accommodation of demographic plurality are listed in point-form only.

  • Cultural recognition has been portrayed as a ‘soft’ option in a state’srecognition of internal diversity. It presupposes a unitary state that merely acknowledges certain cultural traits as ‘specific characteristics of a territorially-based national minority’. A minimal degree of decentralization may be permitted and a regional language (if it exists) may be promoted. This had applied by and large to Scotland prior to the election of its newly created Parliament in 1999.86
  • Another soft option is what Kymlicka and Norman called symbolic recog-nition of the worth, status or existence of groups within the broader state society. It involves various forms of group recognition in the institutions, symbols and political culture of the larger state, such as the name of the state, its flag, the national anthem, the coat of arms, its public holidays, and the portrayal of different groups’ histories in schools and textbooks.87
  • A more substantive alternative is the observance of universally recognized minority rights as enshrined in, among numerous other documents, the UN Declaration on the Rights of Persons belonging to National, or Ethnic, Religious and Linguistic Minorities (1992). These typically include the minority’s right to enjoy its culture, use its language, profess and practise its religion, and participate effectively in public life and in all decisions affecting the particular group. The full observance of minority rights, through a democratic political order, may prevent political disaffection that could feed secessionist drives.88
  • Non-territorial electoral constituencies, which have been proposed in Canada among other places, reminds one of the Austro-Hungarian formula. A Canadian electoral reform commission recommended it as a means of guaranteeing representation to aboriginal people, wherever they lived in Canada. It is an arrangement that could conceivably work for other minorities living dispersed outside the ‘home’ region of the group, as the Tamils in Sri Lanka. By voting as a single constituency, a community would be fairly represented in the legislature – and so possibly leave it with less incentive to engage in secessionist politics.89
  • Special representation rights could include measures to make political parties more representative of minority groups, the reservation of a certain number of seats in the legislature for minorities, or separate electoral rolls for different communities.90
  • Weighted majorities in the legislature may be required when deciding issues affecting the interests of particular groups. This so-called suspensive veto has been used in Belgium and Cyprus.91
  • Regular weighted referendums increase a minority’s chances of influencing decisions on matters of major importance to the group. In a referendum featuring, say, 20 propositions and voters having 20 votes each, they are allowed to ‘spend’ their votes as they please. A voter could, for instance, cast all 20 votes in support of a proposition about which he or she feels very strongly.92
  • A group veto right and a right of nullification are further constitutional devices to protect minority interests. The former grants a group the right to veto legislation (for example, an attempt to elevate another group’s language to the official national language), while the latter allows a group to void legislation in only its jurisdiction (for instance, a tax law amounting to discriminatory redistribution).93
  • Local secession involves a territorial divorce from a subordinate political unit to create a new one. The Swiss Constitution permits cantons to split into ‘half-cantons’ (but not to exit the Swiss Confederation).94
  • More ambitious internal territorial adjustments could also be made to end or prevent turf battles between ethnic groups. A recent move in this direction was the plan devised by the UN Secretary-General’s Special Representative for Iraq to resolve disputes over the borders of the autonomous Kurdistan Region.95

Conclusion

Three main considerations informed the survey of alternatives to contested statehood. The first is that very few contested states will receive unqualified de jure recognition and join the community of confirmed states. Second, life in international limbo cannot (beyond the short term) satisfy either contested states or the international community. Third, while forcible reincorporation into their original countries may be the fate of some contested states, it is an unattractive option because of its violent nature.

Fortunately there is a wide spectrum of conceivable alternative destinations for contested states, opening up possibilities for peacefully resolving the problems of existing contested states and preventing the emergence of more such entities in future. The variety of options means there is no need for a one-size-fits-all approach in dealing with contested states. The differences in the entities’ domestic and external situations would in any case militate against a standard settlement formula. The relevance of several of the proposals has been supported by findings of the Center for International Development and Conflict Management. Where self-determination conflicts have been settled, provision was made for improved access of aggrieved groups to government decision-making, for regional autonomy, the devolution of central power and the redrawing of internal boundaries.96

All the alternatives we have identified involve compromises since they fall short of the first preferences of contested states (full international recognition of their statehood) and of original states (a return to the status quo ante). Finding an appropriate compromise solution depends on a host of domestic and international variables with which the parties involved have to contend. The dynamics of each contested state will be probed in the case studies presented in Part II.

Notes

  1. Pål Kølsto, ‘The sustainability and future of unrecognized quasi-states’, Journal of Peace Research, Vol. 43(6), 2006, p.735.
  2. Michael Keating, Nations against the State: The New Politics of Nationalism in Quebec, Catalonia and Scotland, Macmillan, Houndmills, 1996, pp.18–20.
  3. Unrepresented Nations and Peoples Organisation (UNPO), The Implementation of the Right to Self-Determination as a Contribution to Conflict Prevention, Report of the international conference of experts held in Barcelona from 21 to 27 November 1998, hhtp://www.unpro.org/news_detail.php?arg=01&par=446, p.26; Juan Enriquez, ‘Too many flags?’, Foreign Policy, Issue 116, Fall 1999, p.48.
  4. Michael Keating, pp.52–63.
  5. Emilio J Cárdenas & María Fernanda Cañás, ‘The limits of self-determination’, in Wolfgang Danspeckgruber (ed.), The Self-Determination of Peoples: Community, Nation, and State in an Interdependent World, Lynne Rienner, Boulder, 2002, pp.110–11; UNPO, pp.10, 21.
  6. Scott Pegg, International Society and the De Facto State, Aldershot, Ashgate, 1998, p.180.
  7. Alexis Heraclides, ‘Secessionist minorities and external involvement’, International Organization, Vol. 44(3), 1990, pp.370–1.
  8. Scott Pegg, p.182.
  9. Alexis Heraclides, p.368; GR Berridge & Alan James, A Dictionary of Diplomacy, http://www.grberridge.co.uk/dict_comp_p_t.htm.
  10. Dov Lynch, Managing Separatist States: A Eurasian Case Study, Occasional Papers 32, Institute for Security Studies, Western European Union, Paris, November 2001, p.31.
  11. Dov Lynch, p.31.
  12. JL Brierly, The Law of Nations: An Introduction to the International Law of Peace, 6th edition, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1963, p.136; JG Starke, An Introduction to International Law, 6th edition, Butterworths, London, 1967, p.108.
  13. See Alain Dieckhoff & Christophe Jaffrelot, ‘From the nation-state to postnationalism?’ in Marie-Claude Smouts (ed.), The New International Relations: Theory and Practice, Hurst, London, 2001, pp.32–5.
  14. JG Starke, p.108.
  15. Richard A Griggs, ‘Geostrategies in the Great Lakes conflict and spatial designs for peace’, Center for World Indigenous Studies, 1999, http://www.cwis.org/ hutu3_1.html.
  16. The Economist, 3 June 2006.
  17. UNPO, p.22.
  18. Stefan Wolff, Disputed Territories: The Transnational Dynamics of Ethnic Conflict Settlement, Berghahn Books, New York, 2003, pp.196–7.
  19. JG Starke, p.109; Malcolm N Shaw, International Law, 5th edition, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 2003, pp.206–7; Stefan Wolff, Disputed Territories, pp.196–205.
  20. Stefan Wolff, Disputed Territories, 16, 207–9; Clive Parry, ‘The function of law in the international community’, in Max Sorensen, Manual of Public International Law, Macmillan, London, 1968, p.42.
  21. James A Paul, ‘Nations and states’, Global Policy Forum, July 1996, http://www. globalpolicy.org/nations/natstats.htm, p.8; John Gershman, ‘Overview of selfdetermination issues in Kashmir’, Self-determination in Focus, 2001, http://www. fpif.org/selfdetermination/conflicts/kashmir.html; Muzamil Jaleel, ‘A guide to Kashmir peace plans’, Countercurrents.org, 2002, www.countercurrents.org/ kashmir-jaleel230603.htm.
  22. See the Declaration on Principles of International Law concerning Friendly Relations and Cooperation among States, adopted by the UN General Assembly in 1970.
  23. UN General Assembly resolution 1541(XV), 1960; Chimène Keitner, ‘Associate statehood: Principles and prospects’, Paper prepared for the Faroese Constitutional Committee, March 2003, courtesy of the author, p.5.
  24. Masahiro Igarashi, Associated Statehood in International Law, Kluwer Law International, The Hague, 2002, p.238.
  25. Masahiro Igarashi, pp.258–300, and Joshua Castellino, International Law and SelfDetermination: The Interplay of the Politics of Territorial Possession with Formulations of Post-Colonial ‘National’ Identity, Martinus Nijhoff Publishers, The Hague, 2000, p.83.
  26. James Crawford, ‘Islands as sovereign nations’, International and Comparative Law Quarterly, Vol. 38(2), April 1989, p.283.
  27. Masahiro Igarashi, pp.238–57; Chimène I Keitner & W Michael Reisman, ‘Free association: The United States experience’, Texas International Law Journal, Vol. 39(1), 2003, pp.45–61; Chimène Keitner, pp.6–9.
  28. Chimène Keitner, p.5.
  29. Chimène Keitner, p.5.
  30. Stephen D Krasner, ‘Explaining variation: Defaults, coercion, commitments’, in Krasner (ed.), Problematic Sovereignty: Contested Rules and Political Possibilities, Columbia University Press, New York, 2001, pp.339–40.
  31. Xiaobing Xu & George D Wilson, ‘The Hong Kong Special Administrative Region as a model of regional external autonomy’, Case Western Reserve Journal of International Law, Vol. 32(1), 2000, p.6.
  32. Eva Herzer, ‘Options for Tibet’s future status: Self-governance though (sic) an autonomous arrangement’, Tibet Justice Center, undated, http://www.tibetjustice. org/reports/AutonomyBooklet.pdf, p.24; Xiaobing Xu & George D Wilson, pp.1–38.
  33. Malcolm N Shaw, pp.194–5.
  34. Martin Dixon, Textbook on International Law, 4th edition, Blackstone, London, 2000, p.114; Malcolm N Shaw, pp.194–5; Nkambo Mugerwa, ‘Subjects of international law’, in Max Sorensen (ed.), pp.262–3.
  35. Malcolm N Shaw, pp.194–5; Eva Herzer, p.24.
  36. Malcolm N Shaw, pp.194–5.
  37. Africa South of the Sahara 2007, Routledge, London, 2006, pp.275–82, 924–6.
  38. Stephen D Krasner, ‘Sharing sovereignty: New institutions for collapsed and failing states’, International Security, Vol. 29(2), Fall 2004, pp.99–107; Tonny B Knudsen & Carsten B Laustsen, ‘The politics of international trusteeship’, in Knudsen & Laustsen (eds), Kosovo between War and Peace: Nationalism, Peacebuilding and International Trusteeship, Routledge, London, 2006, pp.1–12; Malcolm N Shaw, pp.207–10.
  39. Metin Tamkoç, The Turkish Cypriot State: The Embodiment of the Right of SelfDetermination, M Rustem & Brother, London, 1988, p.68; Allen Buchanan, Secession: The Morality of Political Divorce from Fort Sumter to Lithuania and Quebec, Westview Press, Boulder, 1991, p.46; David J Elkins, Beyond Sovereignty: Territory and Political Economy in the Twenty-First Century, University of Toronto Press, Toronto, 1995, pp.244–5.
  40. Gidon Gottlieb, ‘Nations without states’, Foreign Affairs, Vol. 73(3), May/June 1994, p.107.
  41. Gidon Gottlieb, Nation against State: A New Approach to Ethnic Conflicts and the Decline of Sovereignty, Council on Foreign Relations Press, New York, 1993, pp.3, 36–40.
  42. Stephen D Krasner, ‘Sharing sovereignty’, pp.108–15.
  43. Metin Tamkoç, pp.70–1.
  44. Thomas J Biersteker, ‘State, sovereignty and territory’, in Walter Carlsnaes et al, (ed.), Handbook of International Relations, Sage, London, 2002, p.166; J Orstrom Moller, The End of Internationalism or World Governance?, Praeger, Westport, 2000, pp.48–50; Gulnaz Sharafutdinova, ‘Paradiplomacy in the Russian regions: Tatarstan’s search for statehood’, Europa-Asia Studies, Vol. 55(4), 2003, p.613.
  45. Jeffrey Herbst, States and Power in Africa: Comparative Lessons in Authority and Control, Princeton University Press, Princeton, 2000, pp.263–4.
  46. Charles W Kegley & Eugene R Wittkopf, World Politics: Trend and Transformation, 9th edition, Thomson Wadsworth, Belmont, 2004, p.165.
  47. Gidon Gottlieb, Nation against State, pp.4, 43.
  48. ‘Confederation isn’t the solution’, Kurdish Media, 26 March 2005, http://www.kurmedia.com/news.asp?id=6479.
  49. Montserrat Guibernau, p.172.
  50. Montserrat Guibernau, , Nations without States: Political Communities in a Global Age, Polity Press, Cambridge, 2000, p.49; J Orstrom Moller, pp.41–7; Alberto Alesina & Enrico Spolaore, The Size of Nations, MIT Press, Cambridge, Mass., 2005, p.221.
  51. John Doyle, ‘New models of sovereignty for contested states: Some empirical evidence of non-Westphalian approaches’, in Howard M Hensel (ed.), Sovereignty and the Global Community: The Quest for Order in the International System, Ashgate, Aldershot, 2004, p.156.
  52. Strobe Talbott, ‘Self-determination in an interdependent world’, Foreign Policy, Spring 2000, pp.152–61.
  53. Brendan O’Leary, ‘Introduction’, in Brendan O’Leary et al (eds), Right-Sizing the State: The Politics of Moving Borders, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2001, pp.1–12; Ian S Lustick et al, ‘Secessionism in multicultural states: Does sharing power prevent or encourage it?’, American Political Science Review, Vol. 98(2), May 2004, p.209; Allen Buchanan, Secession, p.18.
  54. Michael Chege, ‘Remembering Africa’, Foreign Affairs, Vol. 71(1), 1991–92, p.153.
  55. The Economist, 11 September 1993.
  56. The Economist, 10 September 1994.
  57. Makau wa Mutua, ‘Why redraw the map of Africa: A moral and legal inquiry’, Michigan Journal of International Law, Vol. 16(4), Summer 1995, pp.1113–76.
  58. Jeffrey Herbst, pp.263, 266.
  59. Quoted by Sheila Harden (ed.), Small is Dangerous: Micro States in a Micro World, Frances Pinter, London, 1985, p.20.
  60. Arend Lijphart, ‘Self-determination versus pre-determination of ethnic minorities in power-sharing systems’, in Will Kymlicka (ed.), The Rights of Minority Cultures, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1995, p.276.
  61. Vernon Bogdanor, ‘Forms of autonomy and the protection of minorities’, Daedalus, Vol. 126(2), Spring 1997, p.66; Arend Lijphart, ‘Constitutional design for divided societies’, Journal of Democracy, Vol. 15(2), April 2004, pp.97, 105.
  62. John McGarry & Brendan O’Leary, ‘Introduction: The macro-political regulation of ethnic conflict’, in McGarry & O’Leary (eds), The Politics of Ethnic Conflict Regulation: Case Studies of Protracted Ethnic Conflicts, Routledge, London, 1993, pp.6–17; Stefan Wolff, Ethnic Conflict: A Global Perspective, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2006, pp.140–2; Montserrat Guibernau, p.60.
  63. Stefan Wolff, Ethnic Conflict, pp.142–3.
  64. Cited by Rainer Bauböck, ‘Why stay together? A pluralist approach to secession and federation’, in Will Kymlicka & Wayne Norman (eds), Citizenship in Diverse Societies, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2000, p.368.
  65. Graham Smith, ‘Sustainable federalism, democratization, and distributive justice’, in Will Kymlicka & Wayne Norman (eds), p.346; Arend Lijphart, ‘Constitutional design for divided societies’, p.97.
  66. John McGarry & Brendan O’Leary, p.33.
  67. Graham Smith, pp.346–51; Vernon Bogdanor, pp.67–78; Rein Muellerson, Ordering Anarchy: International Law in International Society, Martinus Nijhoff Publishers, The Hague, 2000, p.105; Montserrat Guibernau, pp.50–4.
  68. Metta Spencer, ‘Conclusion’, in Spencer (ed.), Separatism: Democracy and Disintegration, Rowman & Littlefield, Lanham, 1998, p.310.
  69. Ian S Lustick et al, pp.210–11; Rainer Bauböck, pp.378–81; John McGarry & Brendan O’Leary, pp.34–5.
  70. Graham Smith, pp.349, 361.
  71. Lars-Erik Cederman, ‘Nationalism and ethnicity’, in Walter Carlsnaes et al (eds), Handbook of International Relations, 410; Stefan Wolff, Disputed Territories, p.209. 72 John McGarry & Brendan O’Leary, pp.31–2.
  72. Will Kymlicka, Multicultural Citizenship: A Liberal Theory of Minority Rights, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1995, p.30; Montserrat Guibernau, pp.37–8; Kenneth McRoberts, ‘Managing cultural differences in multinational democracies’, in Alain G Gagnon et al (eds), The Conditions of Diversity in Multinational Democracies, Institute for Research on Public Policy, Montreal, 2003, pp.ix–x; Allen Buchanan, ‘Uncoupling secession from nationalism and intrastate autonomy from secession’, in Hurst Hannum & Eileen F Babbitt (eds), Negotiating SelfDetermination, Lexington Books, Lanham, 2006, pp.92–6.
  73. UNPO, pp.2, 3, 7, 16, 18, 19; Wolfgang Danspeckgruber, ‘A final assessment’, in Danspeckgruber (ed.), pp.352–4; Jorri Duursma, Fragmentation and the International Relations of Micro-States: Self-Determination and Statehood, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1996, pp.424–5; Hurst Hannum, Autonomy, Sovereignty, and SelfDetermination: The Accommodation of Conflicting Rights, University of Pennsylvania Press, Philadelphia, 1992, pp.458–68; Steven Wheatley, Democracy, Minorities and International Law, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, pp.106–9.
  74. UNPO, pp.19, 21, 22; Stefan Wolff, Disputed Territories, pp.16, 17; Vernon Bogdanor, p.83.
  75. The Europa World Year Book 2005, Routledge, London, 2005, pp.1286–9.
  76. Wolfgang Danspeckgruber, ‘A final assessment’, pp.352–3.
  77. Vernon Bogdanor, p.66; Arend Lijphart, ‘Constitutional design for divided societies’, p.105; John Coakley, ‘Approaches to the resolution of ethnic conflict: The strategy of non-territorial autonomy’, International Political Science Review, Vol. 15(3), 1994, pp.297–314; Obiora C Okafor, Re-Defining Legitimate Statehood: International Law and State Fragmentation in Africa, Martinus Nijhoff, The Hague, 2000, p.61.
  78. Rainer Bauböck, p.387.
  79. Graham Smith, p.358.
  80. Stefan Wolff, Disputed Territories, p.210.
  81. Arend Lijphart, ‘Constitutional design for divided societies’, p.105; Rainer Bauböck, p.391.
  82. John McGarry & Brendan O’Leary, pp.34–7; Arend Lijphart, ‘Self-determination versus pre-determination of ethnic minorities in power-sharing systems’, in Will Kymlicka (ed.), The Rights of Minority Cultures, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1995, pp.277–9; Stefan Wolff, Disputed Territories, pp.30–1; Donald L Horowitz, ‘The cracked foundations of the right to secede’, Journal of Democracy, Vol. 14(2), April 2003, pp.1–15; Steven Wheatley, pp.161–78.
  83. Metta Spencer, ‘When states divide’, in Spencer (ed.), pp.31, 35.
  84. Human Development Report 2004: Cultural Liberty in Today’s Diverse World, UN Development Programme, New York, 2004, pp.6–9.
  85. Montserrat Guibernau, pp.34–6.
  86. Will Kymlicka & Wayne Norman, ‘Citizenship in culturally diverse societies: Issues, contexts, concepts’, in Kymlicka & Norman (eds), p.29.
  87. Will Kymlicka, Multicultural Citizenship, 31; Steven Wheatley, pp.155–9; Hurst Hannum, ‘Self-determination in the twenty-first century’, in Hannum & Babbitt (eds), pp.70–6.
  88. Metta Spencer, ‘Conclusion’, p.311.
  89. Will Kymlicka, Multicultural Citizenship, pp.31–2; Vernon Bogdanor, p.78.
  90. Vernon Bogdanor, p.81.
  91. Metta Spencer, ‘Conclusion’, p.311.
  92. Allan Buchanan, Secession, pp.143–4.
  93. Allen Buchanan, Secession, p.15.
  94. UN Assistance Mission for Iraq, Press release, ‘UNAMI presents first analysis to GOI to help resolve on disputed internal boundaries’, 5 June 2008, http://www.uniraq.org/newsroom/getarticle.asp?ArticleID=702.
  95. J Joseph Hewitt et al, Peace and Conflict 2008, Center for International Development and Conflict Management, University of Maryland, 2007, p.14.

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