Barbara K Trojanowska. Australian Journal of International Affairs. Volume 73, Issue 1. February 2019.
Introduction
The Australian Government has repeatedly claimed its international reputation as a leader in implementing United Nations Security Council Resolution 1325 (UNSCR 1325). In 2012, the adoption of Australian National Action Plan on Women, Peace and Security (NAP) played a pivotal role in a successful campaign for a non-permanent seat on the Security Council (2013-2014), while this membership in turn presented a unique opportunity to secure this global leadership (Lee-Koo 2014, 2016; Shepherd and True 2014a). At the time of writing, the NAP is nearing completion (due June 2019) and the development of the second iteration has been underway. It is therefore timely to reflect upon what has been achieved since 2012 and how the second NAP can build on the strengths of the current policy and overcome its weaknesses.
The purpose of this article is to understand how far and in what ways the Australian NAP has supported the achievement of the transformative ambitions of the Women, Peace and Security (WPS) agenda to bring about greater gender equality for conflict-affected women. In the most recent NAP monitoring report released by the Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet (PM&C) and tabled in Parliament in July 2017, Minister Michaelia Cash stated that Australia is ‘one of the leading nations on the implementation of the Women, Peace and Security agenda’ with ‘enduring and steadfast commitment to gender equality’ (PM&C 2017, 3-4). Australia has thus far been the largest contributor to the Women’s Peace and Humanitarian Fund, the major international financing mechanism for the agenda, established following the recommendation of the most recent WPS resolution, UNSCR 2242. As of November 2018, Australia’s contributions amounted to USD 3,072,945 (UNDP 2018). This certainly is an expression of Australia’s commitment to progressing the agenda globally. However, feminist researchers and advocates pointed out the many shortcomings of the Australian NAP, including the lack of an overarching goal (HAG 2015), uncoordinated implementation (Lee-Koo 2016), and the weak monitoring and evaluation framework (Jay et al. 2017).
In all of this, I argue that the Australian NAP offers an apt example of ‘norm negotiation’. The term was coined by Elgstrom (2000) in response to criticisms around early constructivist theories of norm diffusion. These early constructivist research conceptualised international norm diffusion as a non-conflictual learning experience between ‘peer’ states (see Finnemore 1996; Finnemore and Sikkink 1998; Florini 1996). Finnemore and Sikkink (1998), for instance, suggested that the acceptance of a given norm by a critical mass of states typically triggers the process of imitation which might lead to global diffusion and eventually norm internalisation. As a consequence, Finnemore and Sikkink (1998, 916; emphasis original) essentially centred their norm life cycle theory around ‘how the ought becomes the is‘. Meyer et al. (1997) somewhat similarly saw norm diffusion as a process leading to institutional isomorphism of states. While these and other constructivist theorists appeared to be aware that diffusion can produce important variations to the international norm at national levels, they pictured it as a relatively linear process and left out the exploration of how the meaning of the norm might change throughout it. Using the example of gender and development norm in the foreign policy of the European Union, Elgstrom (2000) emphasised the importance of defining and redefining the norm across all stages of diffusion: from norm emergence, through norm definition (i.e. negotiations within an advocacy network) and norm decision-making (i.e. text negotiations), to implementation negotiations. In combining constructivist theories with a negotiation perspective, Elgstrom (2000) ultimately called for attention to the unfixed and unstable meaning of international norms and how this might entail a number of unintended consequences, such as resistance to or moving from the initial intent. This dynamic is reflected in the term norm negotiation that underscores the importance of interactions between different stakeholders throughout the entire process.
In case of Australia, the non-linear process of diffusion can be observed most strongly across the text and implementation practice of the NAP. Whilst the transformative objectives of UNSCR 1325 failed to diffuse vertically throughout the NAP, there has simultaneously been horizontal diffusion. More specifically, the sophisticated discourse presented in the narrative part of the NAP (which might be a consequence of negotiations within the advocacy network and—in particular—of civil society’s input into the NAP) translated into only a reductionist framework for action, which in itself does not support transformative implementation. These findings align with earlier scholarship on the Australian NAP (e.g. Lee-Koo 2014, 2016). In contrast with these earlier studies, however, I look specifically at the WPS agenda as an international norm that aims to advance gender equality for conflict-affected women. For many international WPS researchers, gender equality has laid the very foundation for UNSCR 1325 (see for instance Otto and Heathcote 2014, 7; Swaine 2009, 420; Willett 2010, 142). In the Australian context, gender equality has been deemed increasingly relevant to foreign affairs, diplomacy, development and aid (see 2017 Foreign Policy White Paper)—and yet it has remained underexplored in scholarly literature on the NAP. Moreover, I take a step further to interrogate the impact of this limited vertical diffusion on the implementation practice, and I subsequently scrutinise the policy development related to the WPS agenda in the implementing departments. Here I find that the limited vertical diffusion has in fact enabled horizontal diffusion. That is, the lack of precision around the NAP’s overall implementation strategy enhanced norm negotiation within individual government agencies, who could tailor WPS objectives to their institutional priorities. In conclusion, I contend that the Australian NAP has resulted in significant policy development around the WPS agenda within and across government agencies. This can be considered a first step towards achieving greater gender equality for conflict-affected women. At the same time, the reductionist implementation strategy has apparently constrained the impact on the ground. The second NAP—to be released in mid-2019—offers the opportunity to build on this policy development and produce tangible impact upon the lives of women affected by armed conflict through a streamlined implementation strategy and a robust accountability mechanism.
In order to capture how norm negotiation has taken place in the context of the Australian NAP, this article draws on three primary sources. First, an in-depth analysis of the NAP as a policy document guiding Australia’s implementation of the WPS agenda will serve to demonstrate the limited extent of vertical diffusion. This will be supported by earlier literature on the Australian NAP, the bulk of which has been published in the 2014 Special Issue of Australian Journal of International Affairs (Issue 3, Volume 68) in connection with Australia’s membership in the Security Council (2013-2014). Thereafter, I proceed to assess the implications for the implementation practice that followed in most recent years. The second source is the policy development within the Australian Government to date. Here, I am particularly interested in departmental frameworks released by the NAP agencies to operationalise and comply with the WPS agenda. This demonstrates the extent to which the norm has diffused horizontally. Finally, this article draws on the pronouncements of policymakers and practitioners progressing the WPS agenda in Australia. This included semi-structured interviews with 16 individuals representing the Australian Government and Australia-based civil society organisations. For the purpose of understanding the opportunities and risks associated with norm negotiation, each government agency with responsibilities under the current NAP was interviewed. The policy analysis of departmental frameworks in conjunction with these interviews have enabled me to capture the impact of the NAP on the core business of the government agencies, and its potential for a transformative change for conflict-affected women in the long term.
Vertical Diffusion: Failure to Translate Gender Equality Principles Into a Framework for Transformative Action
National Action Plans—or NAPs for short—have been considered ‘the major mechanism of policy diffusion for the WPS agenda’ (True 2016, 309; see also Swaine 2017). As of November 2018, nearly 80 states released their national-level strategies to implement UNSCR 1325 precisely in the form of NAPs (PeaceWomen 2018). Australia became one of them in March 2012. Even though these countries represent a great variety of approaches to progress the WPS agenda (for studies of a large number of NAPs, see Barrow 2016; Fritz, Doering, and Gumru 2011; Miller, Pournik, and Swaine 2014; Shepherd 2016; Trojanowska, Lee-Koo, and Johnson 2018), the empirical analysis of the existing NAPs suggests that typically they are two-part documents consisting of a narrative report and a framework for action, ideally inclusive of a monitoring and reporting schema. The narrative part outlines the country-specific context and pre-existing policy environment as well as the relevance of UNSCR 1325 to it. This is followed by an implementation strategy that operationalises WPS priorities through specific action items divided between implementing agencies, and a monitoring and evaluation framework with quantitative and qualitative progress indicators. This is also the case of the Australian NAP. In this section, I offer a juxtaposition of the NAP’s narrative report with the implementation strategy (i.e. the action matrix and the monitoring and evaluation framework), with a view to assess the extent to which the transformative objectives of UNSCR 1325 diffused vertically throughout this policy document.
A strong discourse on gender equality drives the narrative part of the Australian NAP and has been praised by feminist scholars and advocates. Lee-Koo (2014, 304) argued that ‘the NAP advocates a sophisticated understanding of the gender politics of armed conflict’ further recognising ‘the central connections between gender equality and peace’. My favourite quotation from the NAP’s narrative report illustrates this mature comprehension of how gender equality operates in complex settings. It states:
The benefits of advancing gender equality are far reaching and operate on a number of levels. Gender equality is essential for ensuring that women and girls’ needs are met and human rights are protected, in times of both peace and conflict. It enables men to break away from often limiting and rigid gender roles and expectations of masculinity, which can be amplified in conflict-affected settings. It helps communities to raise healthier, better educated children and enhances countries’ economic prosperity. Notably, equality between women and men is also a pre-requisite for sustainable peace, security and development (FaHSCIA 2012, 7).
This single extract—and there are many similar throughout the narrative report of the NAP which is also the longest part—presents a strong case for gender equality of conflict-affected women. Importantly, this discourse avoids the commonplace risks noted in earlier literature on the WPS agenda such as securitising or sacrificing gender equality objectives for short-term operational goals, essentialising the gender roles of women, or the lack of recognition of the continuum of gender-based violence (see for instance Hudson 2009; Valenius 2007). Instead, significant attention is paid to the root causes of armed conflicts and structural violence, including to the links between dominant masculinities and states’ propensity towards violence. In other places, the NAP notes the complexity of women’s roles too, stating that ‘women and girls are not only victims needing protection’ but ‘also active agents in both perpetuating conflict and building peace’ (FaHSCIA 2012, 7). Intersectionality is acknowledged when the NAP stipulates that ‘[w]omen and girls are not a homogenous group’ but ‘conflict affects diverse groups of women and girls in very different ways’ (FaHSCIA 2012, 6). Last but not least, the NAP emphasises the potential of UNSCR 1325 for delivering transformational change asserting that ‘[t]he implementation of the Women, Peace and Security agenda is a long-term and transformative piece of work’ (FaHSCIA 2012, 15). As aptly summarised by an interviewee, ‘[t]he NAP does embed the principles of gender equality or tries to embed the principles of gender equality’ (CSO 6, interview).
The narrative report evidently presents an uncompromised approach to gender equality of conflict-affected women, immersed in a comprehensive gender analysis of structural inequalities and power relations involved in war and peacemaking (see also Cockburn 2012). Sadly, however, the Australian NAP subsequently falls short in the attempt to translate this discourse into a robust implementation strategy that would support the realisation of the transformative objectives of UNSCR 1325 (see also Lee-Koo 2014, 2016). What follows after the lengthy narrative report is a brief action matrix and a generic monitoring and evaluation framework. Neither bears marks of engagement with the nuanced discourse on gender equality. The five strategies and 24-action points that in principle should operationalise the narrative part are simplistic and presumably driven by the goal of compliance with UNSCR 1325 rather than of improving gender equality outcomes for conflict-affected women more directly. The action items call, for instance, for integrating WPS issues across existing policy documents on peace and security; developing guidelines on protection from sexual violence in conflict settings; improving the recruitment of the military and police personnel to ensure greater gender balance; strengthening the complaint mechanism within the uniformed forces to combat sexual harassment on deployment; supporting the voices of civil society organisations in WPS-related decision-making; and promoting the agenda in the countries of concern for Australia and internationally through the UN (FaHSCIA 2012, 21-25). In all of this, there is little attention to the nuanced gender analysis that was explicated so eloquently in the narrative part of the NAP. Instead, the action matrix is reductive and superficial. In the words of the previously mentioned civil society expert who praised the discourse embedding gender equality principles, in the implementation strategy this nuanced understanding ‘seems to go out of the window’ (CSO 6, interview).
If the action matrix of the NAP can be described as simplistic, then the monitoring and evaluation (M&E) framework is even less robust. The 2015 Interim Review symptomatically dedicated as many as five of 16 recommendations to the M&E framework (HAG 2015), whereas in the 2016 shadow report it was called ‘the single biggest failing of the first [Australian] NAP’ (Jay et al. 2017, 27). In comparison to early NAPs adopted elsewhere (cf. Fritz, Doering, and Gumru 2011; Miller, Pournik, and Swaine 2014), it is positive that the Australian policy designed 16 indicators which attempt to combine predominantly quantitative with some descriptive, quasi-qualitative measures. Yet, these indicators are output-based and limited to ‘counting women’ or ‘describing activities’ without providing any tools to measure the actual impact of the NAP implementation. That is, the M&E framework requires the implementing agencies to collect sex-disaggregated quantitative data such as the number of women and men employed by relevant government departments, the number of reported cases of sexual and gender-based violence allegedly perpetrated by Australian personnel deployed overseas, or qualitative data with description of policy documents or seminars referencing the WPS agenda. As a result, the M&E framework ‘is inadequate to measure the effectiveness of the NAP’, to use the words of Cap. Jennifer Wittwer (in Hewitt 2017, 4), one of the most outspoken government advocates of the WPS agenda. Lee-Koo (2016, 345; emphasis added) specifically explained that ‘[i]t is impossible to gauge the feminist impact of these training activities without a qualitative analysis of their philosophy, quality and outcomes.’ The inadequacy of the M&E framework becomes even more evident in the voluminous NAP progress reports. Neither the 2014 report nor the one published in 2017 offers an insight into the actual influence of the NAP implementation upon conflict-affected women (see PM&C 2014, 2017). Instead, both reports list the numerous activities and initiatives undertaken under the NAP but without further scrutiny. While this does not mean that no gender equality advancements have emerged there, given the limitations of the current M&E schema, we have no way of knowing the real-life implications of the NAP implementation thus far.
In sum, the WPS agenda failed to diffuse vertically within the Australian NAP. Even though the document laid out transformative ambitions to advance gender equality for conflict-affected women, these ambitions did not trickle down to the action matrix and the M&E framework. The document itself, while informative and evidently dedicated to gender equality principles, is only a weak instrument insufficient to account for an impact upon the lives of women in conflict zones. The failure to translate the sophisticated discourse on gender equality into a robust implementation framework is not limited to Australia but is relatively common for first-generation NAPs (see Barrow 2016). In Australia, however, this weak implementation strategy has had a paradoxical consequence for the government agencies. As I will demonstrate in the following, it has encouraged norm negotiation and tailoring WPS priorities to the institutional mandates of the departments, subsequently leading to significant policy development around UNSCR 1325.
Horizontal Diffusion: Norm Negotiation within Implementing Agencies
The Australian NAP is set out as a ‘whole-of-government approach to implementing UNSCR 1325 and related resolutions’ (FaHSCIA 2012, 3). The implementing responsibilities have been specifically divided between five major agencies: the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade (DFAT), the Australian Defence Force (ADF), the Australian Civil-Military Centre (ACMC), the Australian Federal Police (AFP) and the Attorney-General’s Department (AGD). In short, the WPS agenda has been deemed particularly relevant to the foreign affairs, defence and justice segments of the Australian Government. The Office for Women (OfW) (in the PM&C) coordinates the work of these agencies and oversees the NAP implementation on the whole, further facilitating the involvement of Australia-based civil society organisations. It should also be emphasised that the Australian Civil Society Coalition on Women, Peace and Security, a network of these organisations, collectively supports the Government in the realisation of the NAP’s objectives (see WPS Coalition 2018). Given the non-operational role of OfW and Australian civil society organisations under the NAP, their work will not be presented separately. However, on several occasions I will use the data gleaned from interviews with OfW and civil society representatives as these actors often provide policy direction to the NAP implementing agencies.
The Australian NAP—in its current shape—has provided limited guidance to the implementing agencies on how to operationalise the WPS agenda. The advancement of gender equality goals has therefore relied almost entirely on the leadership and capacity of the implementers, who might hold different views on how this should occur. In the following, I explore how WPS priories have been bargained within individual government agencies in the absence of clear directions. My empirical data suggests that this lack of precision has enabled norm negotiation. As will be demonstrated through policy analysis of frameworks developed at the departmental-levels to comply with the NAP, in conjunction with interviews with representatives of the NAP implementing agencies, the WPS agenda has diffused in different ways, connecting with distinct corporate priorities of the departments. While this has subsequently resulted in significant policy development in certain departments, the implementation practice has remained largely unfocused and its impact difficult to streamline and account for. Moreover, in some departments, this has opened a gate for disengagement from the NAP implementation altogether.
DFAT is a major actor in the Australian Government that operationalises WPS objectives. Co-responsible for 21 (out of 24) action items falling under the NAP, DFAT’s obligations distinctively relate to the promotion of the WPS agenda in multilateral fora and in fragile, conflict-affected states. The department typically engages in a very broad range of projects supporting gender equality goals internationally within the UN system and regionally across Asia and the Pacific. UNSCR 1325 has fitted easily into pre-existing policy environment, providing additional impetus for DFAT’s gender equality work centred around transformative leadership of conflict-affected women. This is evident in the department’s advocacy, policies and in the pronouncements of DFAT’s representatives interviewed in 2016 and 2017.
Women’s participation and decision-making have been at the heart of DFAT’s approach to the implementation of the NAP. When a member of the Security Council in 2013-2014, it was argued that Australia adopted a distinct perspective on the WPS agenda (Shepherd and True 2014b, 261). In comparison with other self-proclaimed global leaders on UNSCR 1325, such as the US and the UK, both of whom emphasised most strongly protection from conflict-related sexual violence (e.g. through the UK-led Preventing Sexual Violence Initiative), Australia advocated for women’s empowerment. Upon its presidency of the Security Council in September 2013, Australia co-hosted the high-level Panel on Women’s Participation in Peacebuilding, and in the same month, led the work on UNSCR 2117 on Small Arms and Light Weapons, the resolution which subsequently integrated a strong language on ‘women’s full and meaningful participation in all policymaking, planning and implementation processes to combat and eradicate the illicit transfer [of weapons]’ (S/RES/2117, OP 12) (see also Shepherd 2017). A civil society representative responded to this resolution by saying that ‘[i]t could well be that without Australia’s leadership on that issue, UNSCR 2117 would have gone without any recognition that women and girls suffered disproportionately from the violence caused by the flows of small arms and light weapons’ (CSO 7, interview). Furthermore, in 2014 Australia secured a gender-sensitive language in UNSCR 2145 on the extension of the mandate of the UN Assistance Mission in Afghanistan (UNAMA). This prompted a government representative to assert in an interview that internationally, Australia ‘can provide real leadership and one of the issues that we’ve been known for leadership on is gender equality‘ (ACMC, interview; emphasis added).
The traction to the WPS agenda has continued in DFAT beyond the Security Council membership. The Gender Equality and Women’s Empowerment Strategy (Gender Strategy), released in February 2016, provided more specificity and focus to the department’s implementation of the NAP through projects and programs in conflict-affected countries. While it guides the incorporation of gender equality across all work of DFAT (i.e. foreign policy, economic diplomacy, development and aid program, and human resource management), WPS obligations are clustered under the first priority area dedicated to ‘enhancing women’s voice in decision-making, leadership and peacebuilding’ (the other two priority areas are women’s economic empowerment and ending violence against women; see DFAT 2016, 5). The Gender Strategy explicitly stipulates that DFAT ‘will support a stronger focus on gender equality in humanitarian crisis responses and promote women’s participation in decision-making in response and recovery efforts’ and ‘will ensure that women participate effectively at all stages of peace processes and reconstruction’ (DFAT 2016, 7). This, again, supports transformative implementation of UNSCR 1325 through emphasising women’s leadership and participation in all political processes related to conflict prevention, conflict resolution and post-conflict peacebuilding. A department’s representative stated that the NAP ‘has provided a platform to speak about gender equality and to encourage other countries to do better on gender equality’ (DFAT 3, interview).
Whether on the Security Council or in fragile, conflict-affected states, the NAP has been utilised by DFAT as a vehicle for progressing gender equality of conflict-affected women. Importantly, however, my interviewees noted that the WPS agenda has resonated with pre-existing policy frameworks and the organisational culture within the department—rather than initiating this change per se (DFAT 1 & 2, interview). The NAP has been a manifestation of the existing commitment to gender equality, especially in the area of development and aid program. It has capitalised on ongoing gender equality efforts and as such has been acknowledged as a useful platform to progress women’s rights within multilateral institutions and in partner countries. Yet, the NAP alone has not been a driver for gender equality but only a tool that aids the processes initiated earlier. Perhaps symptomatically, the 2017 Foreign Policy White Paper, the first white paper on Australia’s international engagements released in the past 14 years, missed the opportunity to mention UNSCR 1325 in any place, despite overall attention to gender equality. In sum, the WPS agenda has proved congruent with pre-existing policies and commitments in DFAT, becoming merely an additional incentive for the ongoing gender equality work.
Next to DFAT, the Department of Defence (Defence) and the Australian Federal Police (AFP) are the other major government agencies implementing the NAP. Of the 24-action items, the Australian Defence Force (ADF) and the Australian Civil-Military Centre (ACMC) (both falling under the Department of Defence) contribute to 17, whereas the AFP to 15 (FaHSCIA 2012, 21-25). Their primary responsibilities concern incorporating UNSCR 1325 into policies and operations, along with embedding WPS principles into human resource management of the military and police forces. The WPS trajectory across these departments has been vastly different from the processes identified in DFAT. The NAP implementation has disassociated from other ongoing (and technically overlapping) gender equality efforts in the human resource management. Instead, both the ADF and the AFP put in place entirely new policy frameworks to comply with UNSCR 1325, moving the focus towards internationally-oriented set of issues. This has resulted in a significant and yet largely uneven progress in implementing the transformative ambitions of the WPS agenda.
Despite being initially ‘oblivious’ to the NAP, to use the words of an interviewee (ADF, interview), it is the AFP, but especially Defence, where the progress has been most notable. Both departments developed distinct policies to comply with UNSCR 1325, i.e. the Defence Implementation Plan (Defence 2014, classified) and the AFP’s International Deployment Group (IDG) Gender Strategy (AFP 2014, reviewed in 2018). These two frameworks have as an objective to mainstream a gender perspective across policies, strategies, plans and conduct of international operations. Being a classified, high-level operational security document, the DIP stipulates its function as follows:
[The DIP] includes tasks which provide greater emphasis and focus on gender mainstreaming activities that align with international, UN and NATO efforts to integrate [a] gender perspective into armed forces, military operations and missions and planning processes and align with the intent of United Nations Security Council Resolution 1325 and related resolutions (Defence 2014).
The IDG’s Gender Strategy is a concise document that spells out similar objectives to ‘[i]ntegrate a gender perspective into IDG policy’ and support partner countries policing organisations to ‘promote equality and deliver services equitably’ (IDG 2014, 2-4). A gender perspective had been traditionally missing across the international operations portfolio in the ADF and the AFP. In this sense, the NAP has filled an important gap in both departments providing a key tool to advance gender equality for women (and men) in conflict-affected states where Australia operates. As explained by an ADF interviewee with an operational experience:
Because we focus on the gender perspective part of UNSCR 1325, this has started to enable our people to understand the nexus between women’s equality, their participation in public life and their participation in armed forces as being an essential part of being successful in our peace and security efforts. (ADF, interview)
A representative from the ACMC reiterated this statement when saying: ‘We have now arrived in a position when we consider gender mainstreaming as being a core human terrain issue of offshore operations’ (ACMC, interview). In addition to these important policy frameworks, the Department of Defence created the post of the Director National Action Plan on Women, Peace and Security within the Office of the Chief of the Defence Force. To date, this remains the only full-time senior-level position in the Australian Government appointed in the context of UNSCR 1325. A novel step is also the most recent Minister of Defence’s appointment of a Visiting Fellow in Women, Peace and Security at the University of New South Wales to support practical and research knowledge between the Department of Defence and the Australian Defence Force Academy (Defence 2018).
Quite significantly, both the DIP and the IDG’s Gender Strategy have impacted the implementation practice, translating the NAP into concrete institutional milestones with regards to mainstreaming a gender perspective in operations. In the ADF, for example, the most significant gender equality advancements were identified as the introduction of Gender Advisors to offshore missions, starting with the 2013 deployment of Cap. Jennifer Wittwer to NATO’s International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) to Afghanistan, as well as the integration of the WPS agenda into Australia’s major military exercise, Talisman Sabre, from 2015 onwards. In a nutshell, the responsibility of Gender Advisors is to integrate a gender perspective into the conduct of military operations through assessing the implications of any planned activities on local women and men. Building on the success of the deployment of Cap. Witter to Kabul, the Australian Government developed an Operational Gender Advisor Course. Having recently secured the accreditation, Australia became the first and only state in the Southern Hemisphere offering an internationally recognised Gender Advisor training course. The inclusion of a gender perspective into Talisman Sabre is considered another major success attributed to the NAP. Talisman Sabre is a joint Australian and United States training activity in conduct of combined operations (for more see Defence 2015). The integration of UNSCR 1325 in this exercise was called ‘an extraordinary achievement’ of the Australian military. As explained by an ACMC representative:
In the initial phases […], WPS was almost ruled out of contention a number of times, usually by mid-level American officers who went: What is this, it’s a soft women’s issue, we don’t need to consider this […]. At the end of the exercise when we were looking at what has been learned, we had the Commander of the US First Army Corps and the Commander of the US Specific Command (these are the most senior military people in the world!) turning around and saying: Well, one thing we’ve learned from the Australians was the importance of having a gender perspective. (ACMC, interview)
Evidently, the Australian NAP has made headways in providing greater gender awareness to the security personnel deployed to complex settings. It has done so through emphasising the critical importance of a gender perspective in building security in conflict-affected states where the ADF and the AFP have been deployed. These achievements prompted Prescott, Iwata, and Pincus (2016, 6) to call Australia in their comparative NAP study ‘a model of a best practice for militaries to consider’.
While these critical advancements have been registered with respect to gender mainstreaming in offshore operations, they contrast rather starkly with problematic gender cultures identified ‘at home’. Even though Defence and the AFP are obliged under the NAP to ‘[e]mbed the Women, Peace and Security agenda in the Australian Government’s approach to human resource management’ (FaHSCIA 2012, 19), this has been applied merely to deployment. The human resource management of the staff at home bears no marks of engagement with UNSCR 1325. This seemed even more peculiar given the fact that the NAP implementation has been ongoing in parallel to the ‘cultural reform’ conducted within the ADF and the AFP in the aftermath of the 2011 ‘Skype scandal’. The Skype scandal was caused by publicised improper sexual behaviour within the Australian Defence Force Academy (ADFA). An ADFA cadet, Daniel McDonald, secretly filmed and live-broadcasted to his colleagues via Skype video of himself having sex with a female cadet who was unaware of being filmed. This scandal brought to the public scrutiny the situation of the Australian uniformed women (see Defence 2017). A series of independent reviews into the treatment of women within the Australian security forces conducted by the now former Australian Sex Discrimination Commissioner, Elizabeth Broderick, revealed problematic gender cultures both within the ADF and the AFP, including the prevalence of sexual harassment and the scarcity of opportunities for women to exercise leadership. Despite evident overlaps between the cultural reform and the NAP, both in terms of thematic and temporality, these two policies have been persistently kept separate. To my surprise, I have learned from the interviews with the departments that that has been a strategic decision. According to the ADF’s representative:
If we’ve started to make it a much bigger picture around women’s equality and empowerment, we would just lose our people. They would start to think ‘It’s women’s business, we are over it, it’s not relevant to us’. So, we had to tread a little bit carefully […]. We’ve tried to do it in such a way that they understand the NAP as an operational imperative as opposed to those much more strategic goals around equality and empowerment of women. (ADF, interview)
A interviewee from the AFP confirmed this persistent separation of the cultural reform and the WPS agenda, further pointing out that ‘in terms of the NAP and its implementation in the AFP, we’ve always struggled to get interest in it beyond the international operations portfolio’ (AFP, interview). While this might seem intelligible—after all my respondents explained that this decision was prompted by a genuine desire for the NAP to be implemented and secure an impact on the ground—further scrutiny reveals that this has negatively affected long-term gender equality efforts within the department. The interviewed representatives from Defence and the AFP—both with significant gender expertise—unanimously complained about the lack of understanding of structural discrimination among the majority of their subordinates in these two massive institutions. For instance, a representative from the AFP stated that:
Generally, there is not a good understanding of gender equality within the organisation. There is limited understanding of gender equality in terms of the need to address equal/unequal [gender relations]. There is little appreciation for the structures that exist in the organisation and have been created over a number of years that limit equal participation between the genders within the organisation. (AFP, interview)
The disassociation of the cultural reform from the NAP has eventually led to these real-life implications. Systemic knowledge gaps with regards to gender equality persist in both the ADF and the AFP. The identified separation processes are to blame, at least in part, for the security personnel’s lack of knowledge on perpetual structural inequality and how it affects uniformed women in Australia as well as local women in conflict-affected countries (see also Harris Rimmer 2016; Shepherd 2016). Hewitt (2017, 7) similarly concluded her interview with Cap. Wittwer from the ADF with a conviction that ‘[b]roadening our understanding of gender equality and WPS, what it is and why it matters is essential to overcoming impediments to successful implementation’.
Even stronger resistance towards a comprehensive incorporation of WPS objectives can be noted in the Attorney-General’s Department (AGD), responsible for merely three action points under the NAP. In principle, the department is accountable for Australia’s law and justice frameworks. While the focus of this work is predominantly domestic, it also applies to the AGD’s engagement in international relations, especially through the Pacific law and justice program (see AGD n.d.). With this role in mind, the AGD has been included as an implementing agency under the current NAP. Yet, no departmental-level framework has been established throughout the life-span of the NAP to comply with or support the implementation of UNSCR 1325. Instead, earlier research asserted that ‘civil society remains disappointed with the apparent low level of engagement by the Attorney General’s Department with the WPS agenda’ (Jay et al. 2017, 14).
Interestingly, however, I found that the AGD has not been oblivious to the NAP or to UNSCR 1325. On the contrary, the interviewee from the department demonstrated far-reaching technical knowledge of the WPS resolutions, the NAP itself as well as the AGD’s responsibilities that fall under it. Yet, the agenda has been essentially perceived not applicable to the AGD’s core business because the department does not operate in narrowly-defined ‘conflict-affected’ countries (i.e. countries that are currently on the Security Council’s agenda). An interviewee admitted at the very start of our conversation that WPS-related work in the AGD is ‘pretty much non-existent, really’. (AGD, interview). With regards to the action items explicitly assigned to the department under the NAP’s action matrix, a representative reacted by saying:
Because we don’t work in the conflict-affected or post-conflict countries, there is actually nothing to do to give effect to that. So, we do it by doing nothing because there is no policy framework that could apply to it […]. There is nothing other than being aware of what other government agencies are doing. There is nothing in particular for us to contribute to that either. (AGD, interview)
The AGD has in most recent years established a strong record on protecting human rights in fragile countries of Asia and especially the Pacific. This included a number of programs supporting gender equality, such as ongoing assistance to Papua New Guinea, the Solomon Islands, Kiribati, Tuvalu and the Cook Islands in developing policy legislations on women’s rights and protection from gender-based violence. But these initiatives have not been prompted or even affected by the NAP to any extent. Despite strong pre-existing frameworks on gender justice, the AGD has adopted a securitised and legalistic approach to UNSCR 1325 and consequently ruled out its relevance. This goes so far as to the representative’s contemplation whether the AGD should be involved at all in the Australia’s second NAP. Norm negotiation within this department has ultimately resulted in disengagement from the NAP implementation nearly altogether.
The implementation of UNSCR 1325 has evidently taken a vastly different course in the five major government departments with operational responsibilities under the Australian NAP. In the absence of clear directions in the document itself, the implementers have had the opportunity to negotiate WPS priorities with their departmental objectives (and sometimes personal ambitions). As a result, the impact of the NAP has been largely uneven within individual agencies. In DFAT, the NAP has provided merely an additional incentive for gender equality efforts that have been ongoing. While the WPS agenda has diffused relatively broadly—easily connecting with pre-existing polices and the organisational culture—it has been slowly deprioritised since Australia concluded the Security Council’s non-permanent seat with the end of 2014. By contrast, the ADF and the AFP have both utilised the WPS agenda to fill an important gap in international policy and operations with regards to gender mainstreaming. These departments ultimately demonstrated the most tangible progress in the NAP implementation through international operations. The greater gender awareness among the deployed security personnel can be attributed precisely to the NAP. Yet domestically, the influence of UNSCR 1325 on the human resource management of Defence and the AFP has been negligible and the links between the NAP and the cultural reform underemphasised. This holds true for the 2016 Defence White Paper which also missed the opportunity to establish a meaningful connection between international and national implementation of the NAP. Lastly, the AGD ruled out the NAP of contention, claiming its irrelevance to the department’s mandate. The current membership of Australia on the UN Human Rights Council (2018-2020) offers an opportunity to revisit the importance of UNSCR 1325 to the corporate priorities of the AGD and perhaps integrate the NAP into Australia’s reporting to CEDAW (cf. Swaine and O’Rourke 2015).
Norm negotiation in the NAP implementation has clearly produced significant opportunities for the advancement of gender equality particularly through the Australian Government’s engagements in conflict-affected countries. At the same time, however, this process has thus far left certain areas of the Government’s work untouched by the WPS agenda. This is perhaps even more evident in the department that has not been included in the first Australian NAP at all, i.e. the Department of Immigration and Border Protection (now integrated into the structures of the Department of Home Affairs). This systemic exclusion of conflict-affected women living within Australia’s jurisdiction might reinforce pre-existing gender inequalities and persistent silences around gender-based violence against those women.
Conclusions
The Australian NAP reflects the deeply political process in which it has been developed as well as implemented, and this article speaks to its completion. The document itself—in its current shape—is inconsistent. The lengthy narrative part demonstrates a strong rhetorical commitment to gender equality, founded on a thorough gender analysis of conflict and peacebuilding, and dedicated to delivering a transformative change to the lives of conflict-affected women. Throughout the interviews with the NAP implementers, I found this commitment to be genuine. But while recognising the complexity around gender equality politics at a conceptual level, the NAP has thus far failed to facilitate the vertical diffusion of the transformative WPS agenda within the document. The elusive accountability mechanism, in addition to the generic and reductionist implementation strategy, is insufficient to result in an impactful action. All these shortcomings have left the potential impact on gender equality of conflict-affected women nearly entirely in the hands of the NAP implementers who could bargain for—or against—WPS priorities within their departments. The leadership by individual government members with strong notions of gender equality has been crucial for the buy-in (or sell-out) of the WPS agenda at the departmental levels and entailed significant policy development, on the whole. As this article has demonstrated, the lack of precision around the implementation strategy enabled this policy development. Simultaneously, however, it has constrained the possibilities for meaningful impact on long-term gender equality due to untargeted implementation which has remained wide open to inconsistencies and silences. The monitoring and evaluation framework built in the NAP has inadvertently supported this fragmentation given its inadequacy to account for the NAP’s real-life impact. Nonetheless, the first Australian NAP has laid a foundation for the second iteration to deliver gender equality for women and girls in countries where Australia operates—if it manages to move beyond the many challenges discussed.