Hail the 'blue helmets'

"Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind."

Poet Wilfred Owen was describing soldiers in World War I. Nowadays he could have been talking about civilians, given that modern warfare increasingly targets them. Another - happier - development in the past 100 years is the rise of inter-governmental organisations like the United Nations, often lumbered with picking up the pieces after war. Today, the UN marks World Peacekeepers Day, paying tribute to its "blue helmets", who strive to create conditions for peace in post-conflict zones.

With a record 18 UN missions under way, peacekeepers deserve praise, however they often come in for criticism. Spiralling violence, especially in Africa, raises questions about their viability. A common charge is that peacekeepers are simply ineffective. Examples abound: in Congo last year, frustrated civilians stoned peacekeepers for allegedly doing nothing as rebels went on a looting and killing spree in Bukavu. Such inaction seems puzzling. But like others who answer to higher powers, peacekeepers are restricted by political manoeuvring, by their mandate - the original notion of peacekeeping did not foresee use of force - and by limited resources.

These shortcomings can be fatal. Witness Rwanda in 1994, when troops stood by while some 80,000 people were massacred. The tragedy prompted an overhaul of peacekeeping including stronger rules of engagement.

A civil court case initiated this month in The Hague highlights another momentous failure. In the dock are Dutch UN peacekeepers who failed to prevent the 1995 massacre of 7,000 men in Srebrenica during the Bosnian war.

The UN says peacekeeping remains valid even if it should be revamped, adding that Nato, the European Union and others have adopted the concept. A realistic perspective may come from those who contributed to peacekeeping missions. Major Brian Gatt of the Armed Forces of Malta is one such man. In 1996, he was dispatched to Bosnia a few months after war ended there, to join an arms verification team under the auspices of the Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE). "The peace agreement called on all parties to declare their arms. I went with an inspection team from Germany and another observer from Canada to assist," recalls Major Gatt.

The inspections were new forms of security cooperation - so-called confidence and security-building measures - sorely needed to recreate trust after a war labelled as Europe's worst since World War II. "The measures were crucial to implementing peace, especially early on. I like to think they would not have happened without the OSCE," says Major Gatt. Antagonism between Bosnia's Muslims and Serbs could well have sabotaged inspections, "there was much distrust and coldness when we first met up in Sarajevo. The Serbs sat at one end of the table, the Muslims on the other and we were in the middle. I cracked a joke to break the ice and everyone burst out laughing."

For Major Gatt - a weapons enthusiast - ticking off arms was straightforward "text-book work". However, doing the job in Bosnia proved to be an eye-opener: "Following the Bosnia war in the media, I thought Serbs were the bad guys... I heard about incidents like the Srebrenica massacre. Then I met the "enemy" and saw they were people like everyone else. From watching television, I didn't get what really happened, the human side".

One striking incident was the reunion on Muslim territory between a Serb colonel on the inspections team with his sister, "she was elderly, overwhelmed by emotion. The colonel asked the Muslim on our team for permission to visit his relatives' graves".

Major Gatt's experience serves him well in his current posting: he is in charge of a detention centre for asylum seekers in Safi Barracks. "What people here and in Bosnia have in common is that many are traumatised by war," he says. He is quick to add that the human predicament in the barracks is far more complex, even just because among asylum seekers are people who flee war and others who are economic migrants.

Nonetheless, Major Gatt tries to ensure all are treated humanely while implementing a detention strategy. He believes the army is not the appropriate organisation to run detention centres. But as a military man, he is bound to follow orders reflecting government policy which is "clear with regard to illegal migration".

For Major Gatt, an "open-door policy" for NGOs is essential: "Whenever problems relating to basic needs or welfare are reported by NGOs to people who can act, action is always taken. Whenever soldiers or asylum seekers are accused of abuse - although this is uncommon - allegations are investigated immediately." That tensions arise is not unheard of; the army is essentially a people-based organisation and this is where both its strongest and weakest points lie. However, an army's reserves of humanity often serve it in good stead.

Major Gatt bears this out and when former detainees greet him - "families greet me eagerly when we meet in Valletta" - he knows his efforts are appreciated. Perhaps he owes his outlook partly to his peacekeeping stint in a country ravaged by conflict, where he learned respect for war victims. Meeting him, it is hard not to see why peacekeeping initiatives are worthwhile. Major Gatt thinks so: his parting shot was that he's ready for his next mission!