Abstract

Many countries serving in multilateral military coalitions are “paid” to do so, either in cash or in concessions relating to other international issues. An examination of hundreds of declassified archival sources as well as elite interviews relating to the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Gulf War, the Iraq War, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization operation in Afghanistan, the United Nations–African Union operation in Darfur, and the African Union operation in Somalia reveals that these payment practices follow a systematic pattern: pivotal states provide the means to cover such payments. These states reason that rewarding third parties to serve in multilateral coalitions holds important political benefits. Moreover, two distinct types of payment schemes exist: deployment subsidies and political side deals. Three types of states are most likely to receive such payments: (1) states that are inadequately resourced to deploy; (2) states that are perceived by the pivotal states as critical contributors to the coalition endeavor; and (3) opportunistic states that perceive a coalition deployment as an opportunity to negotiate a quid pro quo. These findings provide a novel perspective on what international burden sharing looks like in practice. Moreover, they raise important questions about the efficiency and effectiveness of such payment practices in multilateral military deployments.

Introduction

Much has been written about the rise of the privatized military industry.1 Yet, private companies are not the only actors making money on the modern battlefield. National governments are also increasingly sending their soldiers abroad to participate in multilateral military operations, and they often receive compensation for doing so. Indeed, the United States offered financial incentives and other types of side payments to states fighting in U.S.-led operations in Korea, Vietnam, Somalia, Kuwait, and Iraq, as well as to several participants serving in the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) operations in Kosovo and Afghanistan; United Nations (UN) operations in Somalia, Liberia, East Timor, and Darfur; the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) operations in Liberia and Sierra Leone; and the African Union (AU) operations in Darfur and Somalia, to name just a few. Other states, such as Australia, Belgium, Canada, France, Great Britain, the Netherlands, and Saudi Arabia, have engaged in similar payment practices.

Political scientists have had remarkably little to say on this issue. Realist analyses of multilateral military coalition-building tend to focus on the effects of military alliances, shared threat perceptions, or desires for the spoils of conquest.2 Liberal and constructivist scholars, in turn, highlight common interests, political ideologies, norms, and values.3 The few scholars to pay attention to this topic suggest that these payments occur sporadically but are rarely decisive in modern warfare.4 Others have suggested that they are a form of disguised coercion.5 Policy analysts and the news media have picked up on individual deals but never pursued an earnest examination of them.6 Critical questions thus far remain largely unanswered: Why is there a need to pay allies to join a military coalition? Who is most likely to cover these payments? Who is most likely to receive them? What type of payment schemes exist? And do these payments increase the success of a coalition deployment? Answers to these questions have significant theoretical and practical implications. These payment practices challenge conventional wisdom in the field of international relations on what processes and mechanisms matter when realizing collective mobilization in the pursuit of security and influence. These practices also force scholars and policymakers to revisit theories of burden sharing, a topic that has gained particular attention during the Donald Trump administration. What does international burden sharing look like in practice: between the rich and the poor; the big and the small? Empirically, these payment practices are likely to affect how wars are fought. Military forces that are not intrinsically motivated to join a given intervention have displayed problems of commitment, cohesion, agility, and discipline.7 Such payments might also affect the prospect for peace. Strategically motivated states might be tempted to manipulate their engagement to extract further concessions, instead of giving their all to end the fighting.

In this article, I analyze this phenomenon of buying allies. First, I theorize the distribution process of these state-to-state payment practices. I introduce the concept of “pivotal states,” which I define as states that care most about the deployment and success of a particular military operation and thus provide the bulk of the means to cover such payments. These states reason that rewarding third parties to serve in a multilateral intervention holds significant political benefits (e.g., greater legitimacy of the operation or financial cost savings). Moreover, I argue that two distinct types of payment schemes exist: “deployment subsidies” and “political side deals.” The line between these two payment types is sometimes blurred. Nonetheless, deployment subsidies generally defray costs that occur in direct relationship to the operation. Political side deals, in turn, are rewards that have no relationship to the costs of the mission per se. They include trade agreements, debt relief, and sanction relief. Three types of states are most likely to receive such payments: (1) states that are inadequately resourced to deploy; (2) states that are perceived by the pivotal states to be critical contributors to the coalition endeavor; and (3) opportunistic states that perceive a coalition deployment as an opportunity to negotiate a quid pro quo.

Second, I illustrate this framework and typology using some of the most prominent and most consequential multilateral military coalition-building efforts since the end of World War II: the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Gulf War, the Iraq intervention, the International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) in Afghanistan, the United Nations–African Union Mission in Darfur (UNAMID), and the African Union Mission to Somalia (AMISOM). The Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Gulf War, and the Iraq intervention are the largest and most prominent U.S.-led coalitions in recent history; ISAF in Afghanistan is the largest NATO operation ever deployed; UNAMID the largest UN operation since the end of the Cold War; and AMISOM the largest African Union coalition ever mobilized. Thus far, research on coalition building and burden sharing is deeply divided between U.S.-led and non-U.S.-led operations; between operations conducted under the umbrella of the UN and other regional organizations (e.g., the AU, ECOWAS, or the EU); and between alliance (e.g., NATO) and non-alliance operations. In choosing these seven operations, I aim to illustrate that a common payment practice exists in coalition-building processes across time and in this wide spectrum of operations. Much of the evidence presented in the case studies comes from archival research at the National Archives, College Park, Maryland; the National Security Archives; the Truman Presidential Library Archives; the Lyndon B. Johnson Presidential Library Archives; the George H.W. Bush Presidential Library Archives; and the Seeley G. Mudd Manuscript Library, as well as from interviews with various public officials.8

Third, I discuss critical policy implications of these payment practices. Who benefits the most from these payment dynamics? Are pivotal states able to exploit weaker states, or do they tend to overpay coalition participants? Moreover, have these practices contributed to some of the shortcomings of recent and past multilateral intervention endeavors? And what externalities do these payment schemes create beyond the battlefield?

What Are Allied Payments?

The practice of paying for the services of foreign soldiers is as old as warfare itself.9 The ancient Egyptian, Chinese, Greek, and Roman armies employed large contingents of foreign troops. For the Battle of Kadesh (1274 b.c.), the earliest battle in recorded history, Pharaoh Ramses II hired units of Numidian soldiers.10 More than half of William the Conqueror's army in the eleventh century comprised contracted forces,11 and during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, outsourcing and insourcing soldiers was allegedly “the biggest industry in Europe.”12 Across these radically different time periods, two methods of obtaining and rewarding military manpower existed. The first method entailed the direct enlistment of individuals who were motivated chiefly by financial gain; their business dealings closely resembled corporate transactions.13 The current activities of the private military industry resemble most closely these types of public-private arrangements.14 The second method consisted of contracting regular army units from other states. In this case, all contractual relations were handled between states without the involvement of a corporate entity. Following this technique, German princelings hired regular Dutch regiments during the Seven Years’ War (1756–63),15 and the British Empire contracted approximately 30,000 German troops to fight in the American War of Independence.16

This article examines this latter type of state-to-state military payment practice. Moreover, its focus is on multilateral military operations that have taken place after World War II. Although some of the patterns I analyze might apply to earlier times, I do not intend to make an explicit comparison. For the purpose of this article, I define a “multilateral military operation” as an ad hoc understanding between two or more states that involves the deployment of military forces to undertake a specific security-related mission. The understanding dissolves once that mission is complete.17 These operations can be led by individual states, or they can operate under the umbrella of an international organization. I exclude from my analysis the creation of military alliances intended to last beyond a specific mission.18

Thus far, little academic research exists that systematically analyzes and theorizes the state-to-state payments that occur in this latter type of operation. This gap in the literature is surprising, given the ample empirical evidence of such rewards—whether financial or other—that have been made in the context of multilateral operations. In the U.S. context, the few studies that do look at these payments most often treat them as coercion or “alliance dependence.”19 Outside the U.S. context, some scholars have analyzed how UN reimbursements affect troop contributions to peacekeeping missions.20 Nevertheless, little attention has been paid to payments that occur outside the UN system. This article's objective is to fill these gaps.

Key Payment Patterns in Multilateral Military Operations

This section analyzes the mechanisms that undergird the distribution process of payments made in the context of multilateral military operations.

PIVOTAL STATES

States hold distinct preferences with respect to most international security crises. Some care deeply about deploying a military force abroad. I call these “pivotal states.” Politically, they organize the coalition-building process: they recruit third parties to join the coalition.21 Moreover, once the operation is deployed, they care about its success more than do most others. For some coalitions, a single state serves as the pivotal state. These states are often easily identifiable: the United States led the Gulf War and the Iraq intervention in 2003, and France the multilateral intervention in Mali in 2013. For other coalitions, however—notably, those conducted under the umbrella of the UN or regional organizations—these pivotal states are less easy to identify. Nevertheless, they do exist. For UN operations in Angola, for instance, Portugal, Russia (the Soviet Union until 1991), and the United States took on this role; and for the AU operation in Burundi, South Africa served as the pivotal state (see table 1). No single variable can explain why specific governments become pivotal states. Rather, a combination of structural and domestic factors play a role: for example, wealth, power, permanent UN Security Council membership, colonial legacies, threat perceptions, normative motivations, civil-military relations, economic and geopolitical interests, and ad hoc domestic factors (e.g., party ideologies and public opinion). Some governments experience some or all of these stimuli at a greater intensity than do others, which leads them to take a greater interest in the deployment of a military force to one place and not necessarily to another.22 Overall, only a small number of states has taken on this leadership role, as it requires considerable financial and political resources.

Table 1.

Pivotal States in Select Conflict Theaters

Conflict TheaterOperationsPivotal States
Angola UNAVEM II, UNAVEM III, MONUA United States, Soviet Union/Russia, Portugal 
Afghanistan Operation Enduring Freedom, ISAF United States 
Côte d'Ivoire ECOMICI, UNOCI France 
Ethiopia and Eritrea UNMEE United States 
Former Yugoslavia (1995–) IFOR, SFOR, UNMIBH, UNPREDEP, UNTAES United States, Russia, United Kingdom, France, Germany, Italy 
Kosovo Operation Allied Harbor, KFOR, Operation Essential Harvest United States, United Kingdom, France, Germany, Italy 
Mali Operation Serval, Operation Barkhane, MINUSMA France 
Chad/Central African Republic MINUSCA, MINURCAT, EUFOR Chad-Central African Republic France 
Somalia (1990) UNOSOM I, UNOSOM II, UNITAF United States 
East Timor INTERFET, UNTAET, UNMISET Australia 
Conflict TheaterOperationsPivotal States
Angola UNAVEM II, UNAVEM III, MONUA United States, Soviet Union/Russia, Portugal 
Afghanistan Operation Enduring Freedom, ISAF United States 
Côte d'Ivoire ECOMICI, UNOCI France 
Ethiopia and Eritrea UNMEE United States 
Former Yugoslavia (1995–) IFOR, SFOR, UNMIBH, UNPREDEP, UNTAES United States, Russia, United Kingdom, France, Germany, Italy 
Kosovo Operation Allied Harbor, KFOR, Operation Essential Harvest United States, United Kingdom, France, Germany, Italy 
Mali Operation Serval, Operation Barkhane, MINUSMA France 
Chad/Central African Republic MINUSCA, MINURCAT, EUFOR Chad-Central African Republic France 
Somalia (1990) UNOSOM I, UNOSOM II, UNITAF United States 
East Timor INTERFET, UNTAET, UNMISET Australia 

Why do pivotal states want to build a coalition? Scholars have proposed two sets of argument to explain this phenomenon. First, the participation of many states and the support of an international organization boost the legitimacy of the operation.23 If the world community appears to rally behind a cause, international opponents of the intervention have a much harder time defending their case politically, but potentially also militarily. Second, coalition building can abate domestic criticism that the operation is financially too costly, politically too controversial, or potentially too lethal for the nation to bear. It raises the prospect of sustained international burden sharing, including the expectation to save money and lives.24 Financial cost concerns came to the fore during the Vietnam War. U.S. President Lyndon Johnson desperately wanted to avoid a domestic discussion over the financial burden of the intervention.25 Subsidizing foreign soldiers to serve in Vietnam was cheaper than deploying additional U.S. troops.26 Political cost concerns, in turn, gained particular prominence from 1993 onward. In 1992, the U.S. government deployed more than 25,000 soldiers to Somalia. The dramatic deaths of 17 of them in Operation Blackhawk Down led to strong public pressure to disengage U.S. troops from peacekeeping operations, especially in Africa.27 Many European countries soon espoused similar ideas.28 From then on, these countries developed policies to minimize their peacekeeping deployments abroad, choosing instead to fund deployments of foreign soldiers, most often via international organizations.

PAYMENT TYPES

Once pivotal states propose a multilateral intervention, other states react. Some are eager to bandwagon: they agree with the intervention proposal or see other direct benefits in participating in the coalition. Some feel compelled to participate given alliance pressures or other socialization dynamics.29 They join the coalition voluntarily. In most cases, however, pivotal states must convince third parties to join: they need to bargain with them. Such negotiations may include the provision of payments usually in the form of (1) deployment subsidies, (2) political side deals, or (3) both.

deploymentsubsidies. Deploying personnel to a coalition operation entails costs that go beyond regular military expenditure. Deployment subsidies are intended to compensate states for these additional expenses that arise in direct relationship with the operation. These financial and material donations most often cover (1) transport to the mission theater; (2) equipment to be used in the mission theater;30 (3) allowances/deployment bonuses; (4) health, disability, and life insurance; and (5) pre-deployment military training. Within the United Nations, a reimbursement system exists that covers some of these expenses (i.e., the UN pays directly for international transport and provides reimbursements for UN troops and police and for the usage of equipment in the field).31 For operations that do not occur in the UN context (e.g., ad hoc operations and operations under the umbrella of the AU, ECOWAS, or NATO), pivotal states often step in to fund this expenditure.

politicalsidedeals. Political side deals are side payments or issue linkages given to coalition participants that are unrelated to the military operation per se. These rewards include foreign or military aid, debt relief, sanction relief, loan or trade agreements, or military equipment deals. Coalition members can use the received funds to defray deployment expenses, but pivotal states rarely use an accounting mechanism to check whether this is done. In other words, such deals are meant as a kickback: a deliberate attempt to induce a state to join a given military intervention. At times, these political side deals are not spelled out in detail. Rather, they take on the form of a promise (i.e., if you join this coalition, we will support your bid for a UN Security Council seat or a defense agreement).

PAYMENT RECIPIENTS

States that receive allied payments fall into three groups. These categories overlap in practice, but for heuristic purposes, it is useful to highlight the distinctions.

willingbutinadequatelyresourced. The first group contains states that have an intrinsic interest in deploying but lack resources to do so. Indeed, some developing country contingents have arrived in the deployment theater without even the most basic equipment: rifles, helmets, flak jackets, transport capability, and even appropriate shoes and other types of clothing.32 Pivotal states thus view them as inefficient coalition partners and agree to provide deployment subsidies to make international military cooperation across rich and poor countries possible.33 Empirically, states in this category can most easily be identified by their genuine interest in the operation, which they often express publicly via speeches, interviews, press releases, and so forth. Often they have some kind of political, ideological, ethnic, cultural, or economic link to the conflict theater. Often they also volunteer to join the operation (i.e., they approach pivotal states or international organizations signaling their interest in joining a coalition and not vice versa). Finally, their bargaining requests in coalition negotiations focus on allowances and equipment needs directly linked to the operation.

criticalcontributors. When conceiving of a multilateral military coalition, pivotal states (often in cooperation with international organizations) develop plans of what the mission should look like: how many troops need to be deployed; what kind of equipment is required; what kind of logistical challenges need to be mastered; and what kind of political tasks the operation will have to carry out. Based on this assessment, pivotal states deem some states critical participants: without them joining the coalition, the mission objectives will be much harder to achieve. Some states are thereby considered critical for political reasons (e.g., they can lend additional legitimacy to the operation). Others are critical for military-strategic purposes (e.g., because they are neighboring states or because they possess indispensable military or intelligence capabilities). If these critical contributors are unwilling to join the coalition on their own accord, pivotal states are likely to lure them into the coalition via allied payments. Sometimes, political side deals need to be constructed to entice the entire state leadership. On other occasions, only critical veto players that are less enthusiastic to join need to be “bought.” How many states fall into this category of critical contributors, of course, depends on political considerations and power capabilities available to the pivotal states. Some coalition-building projects aim to build the smallest operation necessary (e.g., many UN operations); others strive to create the largest coalition possible (e.g., the Gulf War coalition). Empirically, critical contributors can be identified in the following way: first, pivotal states take the initiative on recruiting critical contributors. In internal conversations, memos, and so on, pivotal states evoke specific reasons for why a particular state is deemed crucial to a given mission. Second, critical contributors on their own often show limited or constrained interest in the mission. As such, in coalition negotiations, they hold considerable bargaining power, which they often use to exact material or political concessions from pivotal states.

opportunisticstates. Finally, there are states that perceive a coalition operation as an opportunity to negotiate a quid pro quo. These opportunistic states can adopt various strategies to advance their aim. They can approach a pivotal state at the start of the operation, suggesting a side deal, or they can deploy and signal midway to reduce or withdraw their forces if their demands for a quid pro quo are not met. Either way, whether these states are successful in their quest depends most often on the overall availability of force contributions to a particular mission. If coalition participants are hard to find because the operation is controversial from the outset (e.g., Iraq 2003), or if it is undergoing difficulties (e.g., the Korean War after the entry of China), opportunistic states often have a good chance to negotiate a favorable deal. How can these opportunistic states be empirically distinguished? First, archival documents and interviews often describe the opportunistic bargaining strategies that these third parties pursue. In seeking these bargaining objectives, these states then approach pivotal states. Second, pivotal states accept the proposed deals reluctantly, mostly out of desperation or fear that they would negatively influence the image or operational effectiveness of the mission.

Empirical Examples

In this section, I examine some of the most consequential multilateral military coalition-building efforts since World War II to illustrate the framework and typology described above. Owing to space constraints, it is impossible to assess each member of the coalition. Rather, I highlight instances that illustrate particularly well the patterns elaborated above.

THE KOREAN WAR

Sixteen countries sent ground troops to Korea in addition to the United States.34 U.S. Secretary of State Dean Acheson drove the decisionmaking process to construct a multinational coalition instead of deploying a unilateral U.S. force.35 Acheson doubted that such a coalition could render “effective [military] assistance.”36 Rather, its purpose was political. Acheson was eager to prove, in particular to the Soviet Union, that U.S. policies in Korea were broadly supported by the international community and therefore legitimate.37 In addition, he hoped that building a multilateral coalition would quell isolationist sentiments in the United States.38 U.S. calls for contributions to the Korean War, however, often rang hollow.39 Some countries did not consider it “their war,” or in the words of a U.S. State Department official: “Other peoples are not sure that we are fighting for goals of equal importance to them.”40 Other countries did not think they could bear the costs of training, arming, transporting, and provisioning forces for a Korean deployment.41 The U.S. government thus realized that it had to provide additional financial or material incentives to get states to join the effort. At the time, the U.S. government did not possess legal authority from Congress to transfer military equipment and other supplies to third parties for joint deployment purposes.42 In August 1950, therefore, the U.S. State Department drafted a policy stating that if the United States wanted to recruit countries, especially in the developing world, to join the Korean War, the U.S. government—at a minimum—had to cover the cost of transport, equipment, and supplies for these coalition participants.43 The military brass initially reacted to the proposal with great consternation.44 Nevertheless, given President Harry Truman's unequivocal support of the policy, the distribution of deployment subsidies became an official U.S. government policy by the fall of 1950.

Colombia was one of the first countries to benefit from the new deployment subsidy program. On September 18, 1950, the Colombian government offered to contribute a frigate to the Korean War coalition. Colombian President Laureano Gómez Castro was a passionate anticommunist and eager to fight communist aggression in Korea.45 And yet, a ground deployment to Korea exceeded what the Colombian budget could bear. Thus, only after Washington clarified the new U.S. reimbursement policy did Colombia add 1,068 ground troops to be sent to Korea.46 U.S. officials provided the Colombian government with $500,000 per month in deployment assistance.47 Colombia also received nonlethal equipment as well as lethal equipment.48 Colombia thus falls into the category of “willing but inadequately resourced” coalition participants.

In August 1950, Ethiopia offered to send approximately 1,270 troops to Korea, but only if the United States provided deployment subsidies for the Ethiopian contingent and delivered U.S. equipment “to arm several of its military divisions” stationed at home.49 Ethiopia thus conditioned its deployment to Korea on receiving a kickback, a political side deal. Similarly, Turkey volunteered to send more than 5,000 troops to Korea hoping to gain membership in NATO.50 More subtly but still with an explicit opportunistic intent in mind, Australia contributed approximately 2,280 troops and New Zealand approximately 1,385 troops to the Korean War. Both countries wanted a defense agreement with the United States.51 Thailand intended to gain a substantial aid package from the United States. When discussing the deployment in the Thai parliament, Thai Prime Minister Plaek Phibunsongkhram did not even try to hide his opportunistic intentions. He argued, “By sending just a small number of [Thai] troops [to Korea] … we will get various things in return,” and “if we invest just a little [in the Korean War] … we might get aid from these countries [i.e., the West].”52 Lastly, in September 1951, South Africa threatened to withdraw its troops from Korea if the United States did not grant South Africa new jet aircrafts.53 The move came as a shock to the Truman administration.54 As a result, the U.S. government agreed to the sale of such aircraft on extremely favorable terms: aircraft that usually retailed for $58,000 were acquired by South Africa for a mere $5,447 a piece.55 At South Africa's request, the United States also started to effectively protect the South African regime from international condemnation of its apartheid policies, in particular, in the United Nations.56 The South African case illustrates in the extreme why the Truman administration heeded many of the payment requests. By early August 1950, the Soviet Union had launched an impressive propaganda machine denouncing the Korean War as lacking substantive international support.57 To counter these claims, the Truman administration wanted to increase the number of coalition participants, no matter the price. This urgency then further increased when China entered the war. U.S. casualties reached approximately 40,000 dead, wounded, or missing by the end of 1950 and grew at a rate of 1,000 per week in the first months of 1951.58 By then, it was the Pentagon that pushed to expand the Korean War coalition, not necessarily for legitimacy reasons but to save American lives.59 The U.S. government never considered a particular set of countries as critical contributors. Rather, it wanted to bring as many countries as possible into the operation, even if this required substantial kickbacks.

THE VIETNAM WAR

Six countries participated in the Vietnam War coalition led by the United States.60 The coalition-building process for Vietnam began in April 1964.61 President Johnson conceived the so-called More Flags Program to sign up countries to join the fight against the Northern Vietnamese.62 Johnson's motivation to seek coalition participants stemmed from a deep-seated desire to strengthen the international legitimacy of the war.63 Johnson wanted to avoid the war looking like a “white man's club” intervening in Asia.64 Moreover, he wanted to ease discussions in Congress over the growing financial burden of the war:65 subsidizing foreign soldiers was cheaper than deploying U.S. soldiers to Vietnam.66 Australia and New Zealand did not ask for any financial compensation from the United States for their deployment to Vietnam.67 All other coalition participants, however, received significant financial and material aid to join the fighting—aid that arguably went beyond the direct costs of the deployment, though exact estimates do not exist on how much these countries spent on the war. South Korea received roughly $1 billion in pay and allowances during 1965–70,68 in addition to U.S. military equipment and military aid via the U.S. Mutual Assistance Program and other economic aid payments.69 The Philippines received $9.13 million a year for the deployment of an approximately 2,000-man engineering unit,70 in addition to military equipment and other economic sweeteners.71 Thailand received roughly $50 million per year for its deployment of approximately 10,000 troops to Vietnam, in addition to substantial amounts of military equipment.72 Why did the U.S. government agree to make these payments and package deals? Vietnam was a controversial war and, especially by 1966, a war with high casualty rates. Few countries were willing to join this fight without receiving a major financial political side deal. Frederick Flott, a senior U.S. diplomat serving in Saigon at the time, put it this way: allies “didn't quite see the urgency [of the war] in the same terms that we did.”73

THE GULF WAR

In addition to the United States, twenty-nine states joined the Gulf War with ground troops.74 In contrast to the Korean and the Vietnam coalitions discussed above, the U.S. government was able to convince other countries (i.e., Germany, Japan, Kuwait, and Saudi Arabia) to pay for large parts of the allied payment packages. Overall, the United States collected more than $16 billion to be distributed to coalition members.75 Judging from U.S. Secretary of State James Baker's private papers, the following motivations to assemble such a multilateral coalition stood out: the Vietnam syndrome was still looming over U.S. intervention policy.76 Many influential members in Congress, especially “the Republican right and a lot of the Democratic left,” viewed the intervention proposal with great skepticism; they had to be convinced that the United States would be victorious, that it had wide-reaching global support, and that the war would not cost the U.S. taxpayer billions of dollars. Baker recalls the last argument as “one of the biggest arguments […] made against us […] it was a war we couldn't afford.”77 Approval from the UN Security Council in addition to coalition partners that fought and/or paid helped defeat this opposition, or as Baker put it: “We got around the Congress politically by going to the UN and got around them economically by doing the tin cup [i.e., collect financial contributions], if you really want to know what the bottom line is.”78 How did the George H.W. Bush administration choose the principal recipients of allied payments? The prospect of a U.S. military presence in the Middle East reminded many Arabs of Western colonialism.79 To counter this perception, the Bush administration wanted to bring as many Arab and Muslim states into the coalition as possible. For political reasons, these states constituted critical contributors, especially Iraq's neighbors: Egypt, Jordan, Syria, and Turkey. Egypt was a relatively easy target in this regard.80 Still, to sweeten the deal of sending 33,600 troops to war, the United States forgave Egypt's $7.1 billion debt.81 Moreover, at the urging of the United States (and despite a history of flouting International Monetary Fund–imposed conditions), Egypt also received an IMF loan of $372 million, and in May 1991, the United States lobbied members of the Paris Club, an informal group of the world's richest creditor nations, to agree to forgive half of Egypt's $20 billion debt.82 Syria, in turn, collected roughly $2.2 billion and negotiated that U.S. sanctions previously imposed on Syria for its support of terrorism would be eased.83 If King Hussain of Jordan had sided with the United States, a public uprising could have threatened his regime.84 For its mere “implicit cooperation,” Jordan still received roughly $1 billion.85 Finally, to damage the Iraqi economy, Iraqi oil exports passing through Turkey had to be sanctioned, and such sanctions could be implemented only if Turkey participated in the sanctions regime. In addition, the United States wanted to use Turkish military bases and airspace for coalition operations.86 To ease the Turkish government's decision, the United States offered Turkey $8.3 billion in direct aid, $8 billion worth of military equipment, free oil from the Gulf states, and a renegotiation of its textiles agreement with the United States.87

THE IRAQ WAR, 2003

In March 2003, a “coalition of the willing” made up of forty-eight nations offered political, military, and/or logistical support for the U.S. intervention in Iraq.88 Thirty-eight of them also sent ground troops to Iraq over the course of 2003–11.89 The George W. Bush administration's desire for coalition contributions grew exponentially as the war became increasingly controversial. By March 2003, the U.S. government was vigorously searching for intervention allies to dampen the international controversy of the operation's alleged illegality.90 Moreover, key administration officials saw in the coalition-building effort an opportunity to split the costs, in particular, of the reconstruction phase.91 In contrast to the Gulf War, however, the administration did not rely on a donor coalition to help finance reimbursements for coalition participants. Instead, it created an array of domestic funding sources to pay for the coalition expenditure. The two principal official coalition funding sources were Coalition Support Funds and the Global Lift and Sustain program.92 These funds could be supplemented by the State Department's Peace Operations account and various other “foreign aid” funds, if the need arose.93 When these three funding sources are taken together, the U.S. government is estimated to have spent roughly $1.5 billion on coalition reimbursements from 2003 to 2006. This amounts to roughly $17,135 per foreign solider per year deployed to Iraq, though some countries received more while others received none.94

The United States conducted its most extensive coalition negotiations with Turkey, which was considered a critical contributor to the coalition. The U.S. military wanted to transit the U.S. Fourth Infantry Division (comprising approximately 60,000 U.S. troops) across Turkish territory to launch an assault from the north into Iraq. It also wanted to use Turkish military installations such as ports and air bases. The Bush administration ultimately offered a compensation package that included the following: a $4 billion cash grant or, if Turkey so chose, a $34 billion loan at an interest rate of 6.25 percent (i.e., 50 percent below Turkey's market rate at the time); $2 billion in military aid; $250 million in upgrades to Turkish military bases; the purchase of $750 million worth of Turkish products for use by U.S. forces participating in the intervention; $1 billion worth of oil provided to Turkey from its allies in the region; a lifting of U.S. quotas on Turkish textiles; the inclusion of Turkish gold and valuable gems in the U.S. Generalized System of Preferences, and the possible opening of “qualified industrial zones” inside Turkey, which would enable it to export to the United States from these zones duty-free.95 On March 1, 2003, however, the Turkish parliament rejected Turkish participation in the coalition.96 After that vote, the Turkish government again entered into negotiations with the United States to set the terms for a much smaller involvement of Turkey in the Iraq intervention. The outcome of the new agreement foresaw that the U.S. government would provide Turkey with $8.5 billion in loans at an interest rate of 6.25 percent. The loan would come in four installments, and the last two installments could be transformed into a grant if Turkey so desired.97

The U.S. government conducted another set of allied payment negotiations with Eastern European states. It paid Poland just slightly less than $1 billion from March 2003 through March 2007 for expenses incurred in taking the lead in the Multinational Division–Center South in Iraq.98 Some of these funds also went to coalition troops under Polish command—namely, Armenia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Denmark, El Salvador, Kazakhstan, Latvia, Lithuania, Mongolia, Romania, Slovakia, and Ukraine.99 The U.S. Department of Defense justified paying Poland in the following manner: “Coalition Support Funds allowed Poland to take over the [Multinational Division–Center South in Iraq] with the assurance that logistical support for the Coalition partners serving in the Division would be provided and would be on the same level as that provided to Coalition partners serving under U.S. command.”100 This justification implies that the United States considered this compensation package a deployment subsidy necessary to level the playing field among coalition participants. When agreeing to deploy, however, Poland arguably also harbored some opportunistic motives. Poland was eager to get a promise from the U.S. government for an antimissile shield.101 It also had high hopes that the United States would lift visa requirements for Poles traveling to the United States.102 Other Eastern European countries fared similarly. Georgia was reimbursed with approximately $125 million for pre-deployment training and essential equipment to support its 3,000 forces deployed to Iraq during 2003–08.103 In 2003, the Czech Republic sent a 250-person anti-chemical warfare unit to Iraq and a 270-person hospital battalion. The United States covered most of the $20 million in deployment costs.104 Via the Emergency Wartime Supplemental Appropriations Act of 2003, the Czech Republic also received $15 million in military aid, the same amount as Hungary and Romania; Slovakia received $6 million in military aid; Bulgaria and Slovenia received $5 million in military aid; and Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania were each offered $3 million in military aid.105 Bulgaria also managed to get an additional policial side deal. On February 28, 2003, weeks before the Iraq invasion, the U.S. Commerce Department suddenly designated Bulgaria a “market-based economy.”106 Bulgaria had been lobbying for this declaration for years.107 In addition, Bulgaria was reimbursed by the United States for the debt owed to it by Iraq.108

INTERNATIONAL SECURITY ASSISTANCE FORCE, 2001–14

At the height of its deployment in 2011, ISAF comprised forty-seven countries, including the United States.109 ISAF started out as a relatively small operation charged with securing Kabul after the overthrow of the Taliban regime in 2001. But as the security situation in Afghanistan deteriorated, ISAF gradually expanded its mandate beyond Kabul and grew to more than 130,000 troops, a development commonly called the Afghanistan “surge.” The U.S. government led the surge proposal. Over the course of 2009–10, it planned to deploy 30,000 additional U.S. troops. NATO allies were asked to contribute another 6,000–7,000 forces. Many NATO allies, however, were lukewarm about providing these forces.110 The U.S. government thus arranged that, in addition to Iraq, the Coalition Support Funds and Lift and Sustain could also be used to subsidize countries serving in ISAF. If the funds of these two programs are added together, the U.S. government spent roughly $9.4 billion on ISAF coalition payments from 2010 to 2015.111 This amounts to an average of $85,246 per soldier/year deployed to Afghanistan during the same time period. The United States subsidized the large bulk of Eastern European countries that participated in the ISAF coalition.112 The official purpose of the aid was to enhance the fighting capabilities of U.S. allies and act as a mechanism to offset political pressure to withdraw troops from Afghanistan.113

The ISAF coalition in Afghanistan is not the only NATO operation in which coalition participants received allied payments. A French parliamentary report revealed that the Moroccan contingent (approximately 450 troops) serving in NATO's Kosovo Force (KFOR) was fully funded by the French government. Overall, the French government spent about $25 million from 2003 to 2008 to finance this deployment.114 Similarly, the Romanian contingent (approximately 30 troops) serving in KFOR received approximately $320,000 in fiscal year 2011 and $340,000 in fiscal year 2012 from the United States, and Armenia was reimbursed $850,000 in fiscal year 2012 for its KFOR deployment of 35 troops.115

UNITED NATIONS–AFRICAN UNION MISSION IN DARFUR, 2007–PRESENT

To stop the bloodshed in Darfur, the United Nations, in cooperation with the African Union, formed one of the largest and most expensive peacekeeping operations in history. The operation deployed over the course of 2007. Its maximum strength stood at 17,764 troops, 5,318 police, 313 military observers, and 1,097 international civilian personnel provided by forty-eight countries.116 From 2004 onward, the United States took on a leadership role in the launch of UNAMID. A domestic coalition composed of evangelical, Jewish, African American, and student organizations, later called the Save Darfur Coalition, lobbied the George W. Bush administration to take action on the Darfur issue.117 The administration opted to recruit foreign forces to deploy to Darfur, first under an AU and then under a UN-AU umbrella, because of the fierce opposition of the Department of Defense to the prospect of deploying U.S. forces to Darfur.118 The United States was helped in its endeavor to launch UNAMID by a small number of other states—notably, the United Kingdom and a few other European countries.119 Nevertheless, U.S. leadership always stood out: the United States served as the quintessential pivotal state in the Darfur conflict.

A small group of countries volunteered to join UNAMID, including Canada, China, Egypt, and Ethiopia. Some of these volunteers were accused of bias in the Darfur conflict, and their participation had to be limited.120 Thus, additional forces were required, and the United States, in collaboration with the UN Department of Peacekeeping Operations, took an important role in the recruitment campaign.121 Overall, despite the humanitarian character of the operation, few countries were willing to put the lives of their soldiers at risk in Darfur.122

To fill the ranks of UNAMID, U.S. government officials looked at states that had benefited from the African Contingency Operations Training and Assistance Program and its successor program, the Global Peace Operations Initiative. Both were set up to provide training to African and other military forces to improve their ability to conduct peacekeeping operations.123 During 2005–07, Rwanda had been one of the most active participants in the programs.124 Given the atrocities it had experienced in the past, Rwanda shared the security and humanitarian objectives of UNAMID.125 Nevertheless, it argued that it needed additional financial and material help from the United States to be an effective coalition member.126 Therefore, on September 3, 2008, the United States offered Rwanda approximately $20 million in equipment and transportation support items intended for use by Rwanda's UNAMID contingent in Darfur.127 Once the negotiations had concluded, Rwanda agreed to serve as the second largest UNAMID troop contributor with roughly 3,430 forces. Nigeria contributed just slightly more troops to UNAMID than Rwanda. The U.S. government first entered into contact with Nigeria over Darfur in early 2004 to inquire whether Nigeria would join the AU mission in Darfur (AMIS), which preceded UNAMID. Nigeria agreed, on the condition that the U.S. government provided material assistance for the deployment.128 In October 2004, the U.S. Air Force also lifted 150 Nigerian peacekeepers to Darfur.129 When AMIS proved to be insufficient to cope with the violence in Darfur, U.S. diplomats asked the Nigerian government to step up its military engagement. In return, Nigeria's President Olusegun Obasanjo asked President Bush to support Nigeria's request for debt relief via the Paris Club.130 On June 30, 2005, after intense U.S. lobbying, the Paris Club agreed to a 60 percent reduction of Nigeria's debt. The U.S. ambassador to Nigeria, Robert Campbell, recalls: “Nigeria did not meet the requirements for debt relief. The [U.S.] Treasury's concern was that if you grant debt relief to Nigeria, the whole principle—the whole structure—of debt relief would be undermined.”131 Nevertheless, “despite rancorous disagreements among the involved agencies, the White House imposed an interagency policy in support of debt relief for Nigeria.”132 Nigeria's willingness to send more than 3,000 troops to Darfur played, without a doubt, a major role in this decisionmaking process.133

Available empirical evidence suggests that the payment practices found in UNAMID were also common in other UN operations. Many UN peacekeepers have benefited from equipment and other material aid donated by pivotal states. For example, the Dutch government supplied $5.5 million and another $3 million worth of equipment including vehicles, generators, kitchen trailers, and ambulances to enable the Zambian battalion to participate in the United Nations Assistance Mission for Rwanda;134 and Australia financed the entire deployment of Fiji and the Philippines to the United Nations Transitional Administration in East Timor.135 In addition to such deployment subsidies, other political side deals have also been recorded: for example, Morocco sought a U.S. pledge to act as a (friendly) negotiator in the Western Sahara conflict for its approximately 1,400-troop deployment to the United Nations Operation in Somalia in 1992,136 and Pakistan wanted a promise from the United States that nuclear sanctions would be lifted if it committed forces to the same operation.137

AFRICAN UNION OPERATION IN SOMALIA, 2007–PRESENT

AMISOM is to date the longest, costliest, and deadliest African Union peacekeeping operation, with a mandate to establish sustainable peace in Somalia.138 Six countries have thus far participated in AMISOM.139 Both the United States and the European Union serve as pivotal actors. For the United States, Somalia represents a key battleground against the spread of global terrorism.140 European interests in AMISOM grew once Somali piracy threats against European ships escalated in 2008.141 Both Europe and the United States are reluctant to commit their own troops to Somalia. Instead, they cooperate in financing AMISOM, spending thus far more than $2 billion on the mission. EU funds cover AMISOM's troop and police allowances, death and disability compensation, international and local civilian staff salaries, and other operational costs. The United States mostly finances equipment and pre-deployment training for AMISOM contingents.142

In recruiting AMISOM forces, the United States did most of the ground work. Uganda was its first recruit.143 Uganda's president, Yoweri Museveni, saw in AMISOM an opportunity to get closer to the United States and become a key U.S. ally in the fight against terrorism.144 To make Uganda an effective fighting force, the U.S. government contracted DynCorp International to help equip, deploy, sustain, and train Ugandan soldiers.145 For fiscal year 2011–16, Uganda also received $156 million via the United States’ Train and Equip program and $69 million via the U.S. State Department's Peacekeeping Operations account.146 Burundi was the second recruit. It signaled its interest in joining AMISOM in the spring of 2007 but emphasized that it needed external logistical, training, and financial support to be an effective coalition partner.147 The Burundian government compiled a twenty-page list of items that it considered necessary to join AMISOM, including trucks, bulldozers, aircraft, and helicopters, as well as office supplies, sleeping bags, personal equipment, and optical equipment such as night vision goggles.148 The U.S. government, with help from European states such as Belgium, France, Germany, and the Netherlands, soon obliged.149 Djibouti soon followed Uganda and Burundi, again with substantial material aid provided by the United States. It received pre-deployment training for a 663-strong contingent, a national peacekeeping training center, and military equipment for an entire battalion (including 100 vehicles, machine guns, and Harris radios).150 Kenya had been fighting unilaterally in Somalia since October 2001.151 By February 2012, the costs of the Kenyan deployment had amounted to about $180 million. To reduce these costs, Kenya joined AMISOM in June 2012.152 Ethiopia joined AMISOM in January 2014 for similar reasons.153

Similar payment practices prevail in other operations run by regional organizations such as ECOWAS and the EU. In 1991, the U.S. government offered Senegal roughly $15 million for joining the Economic Community of West African States Monitoring Group (ECOMOG) in Liberia, which was established by ECOWAS.154 It also forgave Senegal's $42 million debt, a move Senegal's contribution to the ECOWAS coalition likely prompted.155 The U.S. government also provided roughly $15 million to Tanzania and Uganda for serving in ECOMOG.156 Foreign assistance also proved crucial in the setup of the ECOWAS coalitions that intervened in Sierra Leone in 1997. The United Kingdom equipped the Ghanaian contingent.157 In addition, it provided $1.6 million in logistical support (i.e., communication equipment, trucks, and field ambulances) to the overall ECOMOG undertaking. Canada, in turn, provided approximately $700,000 in nonlethal equipment, including rations and medical supplies, to Ghanaian and Nigerian troops. Finally, the Netherlands helped underwrite Mali's participation in the Sierra Leone coalition.158 More recently, France subsidized the deployments of Albania, Poland, Russia, and Ukraine to the EU operation in Chad and the Central African Republic.159

Policy Implications of Payments in Multilateral Military Operations

The cases above illustrate that, despite an often exalted rhetoric of shared threat perceptions and alliance burden sharing, allied payments have become a norm in multilateral coalition-building. Many states have grown accustomed to the practice that they receive financial, military, or political favors in exchange for their coalition contribution. This section discusses three critical policy implications of these payment practices. The discussion does not aim to be exhaustive. Rather, it is intended to stimulate discussion and inspire future research.

DO PIVOTAL STATES GET A GOOD DEAL?

Studies that focus on the financial costs of military deployments have repeatedly argued that financing coalition contributions makes economic sense for wealthy pivotal states.160 During the Vietnam War, the deployment of a U.S. soldier cost the U.S. government about $13,000 per year, whereas U.S. subsidies for South Korea amounted to $5,000–$7,800 per soldier per year.161 Today, according to Khusrav Gaibulloev et al., a U.S. soldier costs the U.S. government about $138,465 per year. Similar numbers are estimated for Canada ($137,054 in 2011), France ($119,273 in 2009), and Italy ($156,181 in 2011); whereas annual costs for a Bangladeshi soldier amount to $4,553 per year (in 2009), for a Ghanaian soldier to $5,555 per year (in 2012), or for an Indian soldier to $9,768 per year (in 2012).162 “Buying” the services of foreign soldiers can thus be quite cost effective. In 2004, Polish Foreign Minister Radosław Sikorski came to the same conclusion. He estimated that the Polish contingent serving in Iraq saved the United States $900 million annually.163

Nevertheless, these financial analyses overlook the nonfinancial incentives that are often negotiated in parallel to, or as a substitute for, financial transfers. The examples above illustrate that states have used coalition deployments in the past to extract political concessions from pivotal states that the latter would have refused otherwise (e.g., jet planes for South Africa in the Korean War; sanction relief for Syria in the Gulf War; or debt relief for Nigeria for UNAMID). States have also used coalition contributions to shield them from criticism or punishment for bad behavior in other situations.164 Overall, pivotal states can find themselves at a disadvantage in coalition negotiations, especially in an environment in which the demand for contributions exceeds the supply—which is often the case.165 Coalition participants can, under these circumstances, drive a hard political bargain: they are likely to know that pivotal states desperately need their contribution and thus might be willing to agree to further concessions. Indeed, coalition negotiations might be one of the few instances when the most powerful states find themselves quite weak; relatively weak states can thus dominate negotiations, reversing traditional hierarchies in international affairs.166 South Korea, for instance, was a tough negotiator during the U.S.-led coalition-building process for the Iraq War, despite its apparent dependence on the U.S. security umbrella. When asked for a substantive contribution to the coalition, South Korean President Roh Moo-hyun suggested that such a deployment could occur only if the United States changed its position in the six-party talks on the North Korean nuclear issue.167 After delicate negotiations and tremendous frustrations on the U.S. side, South Korea in essence got its way.168

Pivotal states can do little to reverse this dilemma. Coalition negotiations, like any other type of negotiation, is a game in which information is power.169 The party that knows the most about the other party's reservation level is likely to get the better deal. While potential participants can hide their true inclinations from the pivotal state, pivotal states have a tendency to reveal their preferences by openly seeking coalition contributions: even prior to the start of the recruitment process, pivotal states invest political capital to launch the endeavor (e.g., they seek international organization approval of the intervention and attract and push other states to support the proposal); once the recruitment process is under way, they undertake diplomatic démarches, make phone calls, and set up meetings on the sidelines of summits to woo countries into a specific coalition. All these activities reveal how much pivotal states care—a political vulnerability that can be exploited by third parties in coalition negotiations, if such intention exists.170

PAYMENTS AND ALLIED PERFORMANCE IN THE CONFLICT THEATER

Allies have suffered their fair share of casualties, in Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, and across the wide range of coalition deployments that have been undertaken in the last seven decades.171 Nevertheless, doubts about allied performance have also been a constant.172 Is it plausible that the pervasiveness of coalition payments affects coalition performance? Throughout history, hired military forces (i.e., mercenaries) have gained a reputation for being more discouraged by setbacks and casualties than regular forces and less willing to follow through when a situation deteriorates.173 Do allied payments diminish the motivation to fight?174

Optimists would suggest that the answer is no. Many payment packages, especially those that might trigger controversy, are never made public. Rather, recipient states often go to great lengths to publicly justify their deployment in other ways. During the Vietnam War, for instance, the United States insisted that all the details of quid pro quos to coalition participants would be kept secret.175 As a result, South Korean President Park Chung-hee and the members of his government would emphasize in public how the South Korean troop commitment to Vietnam was payback for U.S. aid during the Korean War and a result of their commitment to strengthening the anti-communist front in Asia.176 Still, even if soldiers doubt these public justifications, their fear of losing the financial allowances and other benefits they often receive by deploying abroad compel them to act to the best of their abilities. In many countries, selection to join a subsidized coalition force at the troop level is competitive: deploying abroad is a badge of honor that bad behavior cannot tarnish.177

Pessimists would argue that a deleterious propensity toward profit has infiltrated coalition deployments. States limit their coalition commitment to ensure a profit margin (i.e., they restrict their coalition involvement to a minimum, for example, via risk-averse operational strategies or caveats). Moreover, if the pivotal state reneges on a promised payment, threatens to do so, or is perceived to do so (sometimes falsely so), subsidized coalition partners retaliate accordingly.178 Such behavior is feasible for two reasons. First, it is hard for pivotal states to observe what is going on in the deployment theater at all times and places. As a result, coalition participants are tempted to look for shortcuts to protect their assets: Why undertake undue risks? Why engage with difficult targets if easier activities can be undertaken? Second, pivotal states face punishment challenges, especially in environments in which coalition participants are scarce. Pivotal states then have few options for disciplining deviant coalition participants if they desperately rely on them.

Are there any mechanisms to ensure a better performance of subsidized troops? A UN report suggests that what is expected from troops in the field need to be better codified in what it terms a deployment “compact.”179 Moreover, the UN has also started to provide bonus payments if contingents show exceptional bravery in risky situations. Nevertheless, both of these techniques and other ideas that deal with the issues of contracting and monitoring will never be able to fully address the key issue at play: the distinction between intrinsic motivation to join a coalition force and external incentivizing, and the related crowding out of entrepreneurial for rent-seeking behavior.180

PAYMENT SCHEME EXTERNALITIES BEYOND THE BATTLEFIELD

The payment schemes described above provide cash and a range of other material incentives to coalition participants. If put to good use, these resources can benefit the country at large by helping build proficient militaries,181 as well as boosting economic, social, and political development from the individual soldier to the nation-state.182 Nevertheless, such payments also create contingencies. At the micro-level, allowances received by soldiers deploying abroad often exceed the salaries of those in other professions and their own salaries prior to joining a mission.183 Such an influx of money can create jealousy and social tension, both inside the military between those who deploy and those who stay behind, among different military ranks, and between the military and the civilian population.184 Such payments can also create the potential for corruption, favoritism, and nepotism (e.g., in the process of officers chosen to serve in operations or in the process of how funds are used).185 At the macro-level, research suggests that the money, material, and training provided by pivotal states risks increasing domestic political repression and even the probability of coups.186

Are there remedies to counteract the negative and foster the positive externalities of allied payments? During the Vietnam War, the United States tried to achieve exactly that. To keep social peace in Thailand, U.S. coalition payments “had to serve … two sometimes dichotomous purposes … furnish tangible American support for the upper-echelon military leaders who controlled the government … and for the second-echelon of military officers, the traditional breeding ground for Thai governmental coups.”187 Today, it appears that similar strategies are still used to keep risks at bay: Pakistan reportedly allows its soldiers to serve only once in any foreign “subsidized” operation to diminish the risk of social inequality and excessive “autonomy,”188 while Uruguay has put in place an elaborate system of how soldiers receive their share of the deployment subsidies.189 Nevertheless, implementing these strategies is complex and, arguably, can have an impact on the operational effectiveness of the mission (e.g., soldiers get chosen not for their professional capacities but for sociopolitical reasons).

Conclusion

At the beginning of the Korean War, U.S. Secretary of Defense George Marshall warned of the potential consequences of the U.S. government providing allied payments: “In my opinion the case of Korea will set the pattern for future collective military action … it would appear undesirable to establish any general principle that U.S. military supplies, services or equipment will be donated without creating any obligation on the part of their recipients … Rather, I would suggest that our present position as the leader of collective military action requires us to stimulate and awaken all other members to the difficult responsibilities as well as to the many privileges of participation in the world organization.”190

Marshall's words show great foresight. Yet, his advice was not heeded. Allied payments have become a pervasive phenomenon. This article set out to shed light on some of the patterns of these practices. It developed a framework and typology for understanding coalition building through the use of allied payments. First, it illustrated that states that care most about the launch and success of a particular military operation provide the means to cover such payments. In doing so, these pivotal states pursue a set of overlapping objectives. Certainly, there are desires to boost the legitimacy of the operation. Nevertheless, recruiting and subsidizing allies also holds the possibility of (fully or partially) outsourcing military deployments, which allows pivotal states to reduce costs or evade domestic opposition to sending their own soldiers abroad. Second, the payments provided to third parties generally take on two forms: deployment subsidies and political side deals. Deployment subsidies are most often offered to states that lack the resources to deploy efficiently, whereas political side deals are used to lure critical contributors on board with the coalition. Moreover, on occasions, opportunistic states ask for subsidies or political side deals in exchange for their joining or staying in the coalition.

What are the theoretical implications of this research? Conventional international relations scholarship needs to take account of these payment practices in multilateral military coalition-building. They challenge conventional wisdom in the field of international relations on how cooperation in multilateral military coalitions comes about and shed new light on how burden sharing is practiced in reality: between the United States and its NATO allies; between developing and developed states; and between the militarily strong and the militarily weak. Understanding such dynamics is critical: the forces that enable collective military mobilization determine the magnitude of global security threats and display the strength of alliances and the international community as a whole. Moreover, the analysis above opens many intriguing avenues for future research. For example, how are payment promises enforced? How are payment agreements implemented? How much do allies cost depending on time period, type of operation, or type of government?

The policy implications are of equal importance. The article suggests that because of these payments, international cooperation in the security sphere occurs much more frequently than the actual constellation of intrinsic security preferences would permit. Each payment appears to serve as a lever to motivate states to cooperate on important security challenges. Without these incentives, coalitions would see far less international buy-in. Nevertheless, is there a cost for such cooperation? From a financial perspective, these payments appear to benefit pivotal states. Yet, the examples presented above also display the vulnerability of pivotal states to the demands of third parties in coalition negotiations: they agree to actions and policies that they might not have done otherwise; they become beholden to corrupt governments and condone political practices that fundamentally contradict their values. The examples also show coalition participants at times acting opportunistically (e.g., by threatening to withdraw their forces, they are willing to jeopardize the goals of the mission in an attempt to maximize their own interests). Lastly, some allied payments appear to have led to negative social, economic, and political externalities in recipient states.

Allied payments are here to stay. Scholars and policymakers therefore need to understand how to exploit the benefits of their use and prevent, contain, and manage potentially negative consequences.

Acknowledgments

The author is grateful to Northwestern University and the European University Institute for financial support. For helpful comments and suggestions on earlier drafts, the author thanks Karen Alter, Austin Carson, Jonathan Caverley, Erik Gartzke, Ian Hurd, Robert Keohane, Daniel Krcmaric, Ulrich Krotz, Charles Lipson, John Mearsheimer, Andrew Moravcsik, Stephen Nelson, Robert Pape, Paul Poast, Vincent Pouliot, William Reno, Andrew Roberts, Hendrik Spruyt, Paul Staniland, Paul Williams, and the anonymous reviewers.

Notes

1. 

See, for example, P.W. Singer, Corporate Warriors: The Rise of the Privatized Military Industry (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2003), p. 407; Deborah D. Avant, The Market for Force: The Consequences of Privatizing Security (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005); Anna Leander, “The Market for Force and Public Security: The Destabilizing Consequences of Private Military Companies,” Journal of Peace Research, Vol. 42, No. 5 (September 2005), pp. 605–622, doi.org/10.1177/0022343305056237; and Amy E. Eckert, Outsourcing War: The Just War Tradition in the Age of Military Privatization (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2016).

2. 

See, for example, James D. Morrow, “Alliances: Why Write Them Down?” Annual Review of Political Science, Vol. 3, No. 1 (June 2000), pp. 63–83, doi.org/10.1146/annurev.polisci.3.1.63; Glenn H. Snyder, Alliance Politics (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1997); Stephen M. Walt, The Origins of Alliances (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1987); Patricia A. Weitsman, Waging War: Alliances, Coalitions, and Institutions of Interstate Violence (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2014), p. 141; Jason W. Davidson, America's Allies and War: Kosovo, Afghanistan, and Iraq (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011); and Randall L. Schweller, “Bandwagoning for Profit: Bringing the Revisionist State Back In,” International Security, Vol. 19, No. 1 (Summer 1994), pp. 72–107, doi.org/10.2307/2539149.

3. 

See, for example, Emanuel Adler and Michael Barnett, eds., Security Communities (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998); Srdjan Vucetic, “Bound to Follow? The Anglosphere and U.S.-Led Coalitions of the Willing, 1950–2001,” European Journal of International Relations, Vol. 17, No. 1 (March 2011), pp. 27–49, doi.org/10.1177/1354066109350052; Martha Finnemore, The Purpose of Intervention: Changing Beliefs about the Use of Force (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2003); and James H. Lebovic, “Uniting for Peace? Democracies and United Nations Peace Operations after the Cold War,” Journal of Conflict Resolution, Vol. 48, No. 6 (December 2004), pp. 910–936, doi.org/10.1177/0022002704269357.

4. 

For example, Nicholas Evan Sarantakes, “In the Service of Pharaoh? The United States and the Deployment of Korean Troops in Vietnam, 1965–1968,” Pacific Historical Review, Vol. 68, No. 3 (August 1999), pp. 425–449, doi.org/10.2307/4492337; Atsushi Tago, “Is There an Aid-for-Participation Deal? U.S. Economic and Military Aid Policy to Coalition Forces (Non)participants,” International Relations of the Asia-Pacific, Vol. 8, No. 3 (September 2008), pp. 379–398, doi.org/10.1093/irap/lcn010; Daniel F. Baltrusaitis, Coalition Politics and the Iraq War: Determinants of Choice (Boulder, Colo.: First Forum, 2009); and Randall Newnham, “‘Coalition of the Bribed and Bullied?’ U.S. Economic Linkage and the Iraq War Coalition,” International Studies Perspectives, Vol. 9, No. 2 (May 2008), pp. 183–200, doi.org/10.1111/j.1528–3585.2008.00326.x.

5. 

Andrew Bennett, Joseph Lepgold, and Danny Unger, eds., Friends in Need: Burden Sharing in the Gulf War (New York: St. Martin's, 1997), p. 12.

6. 

See, for example, Sarah Anderson, Phyllis Bennis, and John Cavanagh, Coalition of the Willing or Coalition of the Coerced? How the Bush Administration Influences Allies in Its War on Iraq (Washington, D.C.: Institute for Policy Studies, 2003); Paul Richter, “Poland Viewed as Model for Eastern Europe, Gore Says,” Los Angeles Times, April 21, 1993; and James Risen, “Western Nations Reward Poland by Halving Its Debt,” Los Angeles Times, March 16, 1991.

7. 

See Singer, Corporate Warriors, pp. 159–160; John Kiszely, “Coalition Command in Contemporary Operations,” Whitehall Report No. 1–08 (London: Royal United Services Institute, 2008); Alex Weisiger, “Exiting the Coalition: When Do States Abandon Coalition Partners during War?” International Studies Quarterly, Vol. 60, No. 4 (December 2016), pp. 753–765, doi.org/10.1093/isq/sqw029; Weitsman, Waging War, p. 25; Olivier Schmitt, Allies That Count: Junior Partners in Coalition Warfare (Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 2018); and Stephanie C. Hofmann, “Overlapping Institutions in the Realm of International Security: The Case of NATO and ESDP,” Perspectives on Politics, Vol. 7, No. 1 (March 2009), pp. 45–52, doi.org/10.1017/S1537592709090070.

8. 

Despite my utmost effort to collect data from different places, perspectives, and levels of analysis, a quick word on the limitations of this article is in order. Researching allied payments is difficult. Both donors and recipients of these payments prefer to keep them secret: donors would like the public to believe that their coalition is genuinely supported by the international community, while recipients like to deny that their deployment is a product of foreign financial or political incentivizing. Openings always exist, however, in interviews, archival sources, books, articles, newspaper magazines, and so on. For each one of the payments, I have done my best to separate rumor from fact. This exercise was easier for coalitions for which plenty of declassified material exists (e.g., the Korean War, the Vietnam War, and the Gulf War). For more recent coalitions, bulletproof evidence is more difficult to find, and thus conclusions are necessarily more tentative. As a result, what follows should be read with these limitations in mind. As more data become available, I might have to revise some of my claims. For now, this article is, however, my best assessment given the information I have been able to access.

9. 

Singer, Corporate Warriors; Janice E. Thomson, “State Practices, International Norms, and the Decline of Mercenarism,” International Studies Quarterly, Vol. 34, No. 1 (March 1990), pp. 23–47, doi.org/10.2307/2600404; Janice E. Thomson, Mercenaries, Pirates, and Sovereigns: State-Building and Extraterritorial Violence in Early Modern Europe (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1994); and Anthony Mockler, The New Mercenaries: The History of the Mercenary from the Congo to the Seychelles (New York: Sidgwick & Jackson, 1985).

10. 

James Larry Taulbee, “Reflections on the Mercenary Option,” Small Wars & Insurgencies, Vol. 9, No. 2 (Autumn 1998), pp. 145–163, doi.org/10.1080/09592319808423214.

11. 

David Shearer, “Outsourcing War,” Foreign Policy, Fall 1998, pp. 68–81, doi.org/10.2307/1149036.

12. 

Michael Howard, War in European History, updated ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), p. 131; Martin van Creveld, Supplying War: Logistics from Wallenstein to Patton (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977), p. 6; and Mockler, The New Mercenaries, pp. 74–104.

13. 

Singer, Corporate Warriors, p. 24; and Mockler, The New Mercenaries, p. 44.

14. 

See, for example, Singer, Corporate Warriors, p. 407; Avant, The Market for Force; and Eckert, Outsourcing War.

15. 

John Childs, Armies and Warfare in Europe, 1648–1789 (Manchester, U.K.: Manchester University Press, 1982), p. 38.

16. 

Singer, Corporate Warriors, p. 32.

17. 

For a similar definition, see Weitsman, Waging War, p. 26.

18. 

Daniel S. Morey, “Military Coalitions and the Outcome of Interstate Wars,” Foreign Policy Analysis, Vol. 12, No. 4 (October 2016), p. 535, doi.org/10.1111/fpa.12083.

19. 

See, for example, Bennett, Lepgold, and Unger, Friends in Need; Weitsman, Waging War; Newnham, “‘Coalition of the Bribed and Bullied?’”; Tago, “Is There an Aid-for-Participation Deal?”; Sarantakes, “In the Service of Pharaoh?”; Baltrusaitis, Coalition Politics and the Iraq War; Stéfanie von Hlatky, American Allies in Times of War: The Great Asymmetry (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013); and Sarah Kreps, Coalitions of Convenience: United States Military Interventions after the Cold War (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011).

20. 

For example, Philip Cunliffe, Legions of Peace: UN Peacekeepers from the Global South (London: C. Hurst, 2013); Katharina P. Coleman, The Political Economy of UN Peacekeeping: Incentivizing Effective Participation (New York: International Peace Institute, 2014); Alex J. Bellamy and Paul D. Williams, Providing Peacekeepers: The Politics, Challenges, and Future of United Nations Peacekeeping Contributions (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), p. 9; Katharina P. Coleman and Benjamin Nyblade, “Peacekeeping for Profit? The Scope and Limits of ‘Mercenary’ UN Peacekeeping,” Journal of Peace Research, Vol. 55, No. 6 (June 2018), pp. 726–741, doi.org/10.1177%2F0022343318775784; Davis B. Bobrow and Mark A. Boyer, “Maintaining System Stability: Contributions to Peacekeeping Operations,” Journal of Conflict Resolution, Vol. 41, No. 6 (December 1997), pp. 723–748, doi.org/10.1177%2F0022002797041006001; and Khusrav Gaibulloev et al., “Personnel Contributions to UN and Non-UN Peacekeeping Missions: A Public Goods Approach,” Journal of Peace Research, Vol. 52, No. 6 (June 2015), pp. 727–742, doi.org/10.1177%2F0022343315579245.

21. 

Alex J. Bellamy and Paul D. Williams have used the term in a similar context. See Bellamy and Williams, Understanding Peacekeeping (Cambridge: Polity, 2010), pp. 43–45.

22. 

Developing a precise theory of how states turn into pivotal states in a given context lies beyond the scope of this article. I have addressed this question elsewhere. See Marina E. Henke, “Why Did France Intervene in Mali in 2013? Examining the Role of Intervention Entrepreneurs,” Canadian Foreign Policy Journal, Vol. 23, No. 3 (July 2017), pp. 307–323, doi.org/10.1080/11926422.2017.1352004. For alternative explanations, see also Elizabeth N. Saunders, “War and the Inner Circle: Democratic Elites and the Politics of Using Force,” Security Studies, Vol. 24, No. 3 (September 2015), pp. 466–501, doi.org/10.1080/09636412.2015.1070618; Patrick M. Regan, Civil Wars and Foreign Powers: Outside Intervention in Intrastate Conflict (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2002); and Nicolas Rost and J. Michael Greig, “Taking Matters into Their Own Hands: An Analysis of the Determinants of State-Conducted Peacekeeping in Civil Wars,” Journal of Peace Research, Vol. 48, No. 2 (April 2011), pp. 171–184, doi.org/10.1177%2F0022343310396110.

23. 

For example, Alexander Thompson, Channels of Power: The UN Security Council and U.S. Statecraft in Iraq (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2009); Katharina P. Coleman, International Organizations and Peace Enforcement: The Politics of International Legitimacy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007); Ian Hurd, After Anarchy: Legitimacy and Power in the United Nations Security Council (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2007); Richard C. Eichenberg, “Victory Has Many Friends: U.S. Public Opinion and the Use of Military Force, 1981–2005,” International Security, Vol. 30, No. 1 (March 2005), pp. 140–177, doi.org/10.1162/0162288054894616; Bruce W. Jentleson and Rebecca L. Britton, “Still Pretty Prudent: Post–Cold War American Public Opinion on the Use of Military Force,” Journal of Conflict Resolution, Vol. 42, No. 4 (August 1998), pp. 395–417, doi.org/10.1177%2F0022002798042004001; and Peter D. Feaver and Christopher Gelpi, Choosing Your Battles: American Civil-Military Relations and the Use of Force (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2004).

24. 

Stefano Recchia, Reassuring the Reluctant Warriors: U.S. Civil-Military Relations and Multilateral Intervention (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2015); and Dominic Tierney, “Multilateralism: America's Insurance Policy against Loss,” European Journal of International Relations, Vol. 17, No. 4 (October 2011), pp. 655–678, doi.org/10.1177%2F1354066110372433.

25. 

Francis M. Bator, “No Good Choices: LBJ and the Vietnam/Great Society Connection,” Diplomatic History, Vol. 32, No. 3 (June 2008), p. 321, doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-7709.2008.00691_1.x.

26. 

Memorandum from the President's Special Assistant (Valenti) to President Johnson, January 4, 1966, Foreign Relations of the United States (FRUS) 1964–1968, Vol. 26: Indonesia; Malaysia-Singapore; Philippines (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office [GPO], 2000), p. 705, https://history.state.gov/historicaldocuments/frus1964-68v26/d322.

27. 

Mark Bowden, Black Hawk Down: A Story of Modern War (New York: Grove, 2010).

28. 

Belgian peacekeepers tragically died in Rwanda. This led to pressure on European governments to disengage from peacekeeping operations. See, for instance, Caroline Hartzell and Matthew Hoddie, “From Anarchy to Security: Comparing Theoretical Approaches to the Process of Disarmament Following Civil War,” Contemporary Security Policy, Vol. 27, No. 1 (January 2007), pp. 155–167, doi.org/10.1080/13523260600603352.

29. 

For example, Glenn H. Snyder, “The Security Dilemma in Alliance Politics,” World Politics, Vol. 36, No. 4 (July 1984), pp. 461–495, doi.org/10.2307/2010183; Morrow, “Alliances,” pp. 69–70; and Ulrich Pilster, “Are Democracies the Better Allies? The Impact of Regime Type on Military Coalition Operations,” International Interactions, Vol. 37, No. 1 (March 2011), pp. 55–85, doi.org/10.1080/03050629.2011.546259.

30. 

Nonlethal equipment most often includes vehicles, vehicle spare parts, generators, tentage and other accommodation equipment, medical equipment, mine detectors, water purifiers, night-vision goggles, communication equipment, uniforms, boots, and food rations. Lethal equipment can include rifles, light machine guns, semiautomatic self-loading rifles, mortars, and rocket-propelled grenades. See, for example, Eric G. Berman, “The Provision of Lethal Military Equipment: French, U.K., and U.S. Peacekeeping Policies towards Africa,” Security Dialogue, Vol. 34, No. 2 (June 2003), p. 202, doi.org/10.1177%2F0967010603034002006.

31. 

See Coleman, The Political Economy of UN Peacekeeping. Staff officers, military observers, and individual civilian police officers receive a mission subsistence allowance ranging from $56 per day to $208 per day, depending on location. Troop and police personnel are reimbursed at a current base rate of $1,410 per contingent member per month. In addition, the UN pays a specialist rate of $303 per month for a set proportion of the deployed troops (25 percent of logistics units, 10 percent of all other units). All troop and police personnel also receive $68 per month as a “personal clothing, gear and equipment allowance” and $5 per month for “personnel weaponry and training ammunition.” All UN contingents are also reimbursed for major military and other equipment items they use in the field.

32. 

See, for example, United Nations, “Report of the Panel on United Nations Peace Operations (Brahimi Report),” A/55/305 (New York: UN, 2000), p. 189; and Eric G. Berman and Katie E. Sams, Peacekeeping in Africa: Capabilities and Culpabilities (Geneva: United Nations Institute for Disarmament Research, 2000), pp. 252–253.

33. 

See, for example, “Report of the Panel on United Nations Peace Operations (Brahimi Report),” p. 10.

34. 

For a detailed list of coalition members in the Korean War, see the online appendix at doi.org/10.7910/DVN/TDWNO9.

35. 

See, for example, William W. Stueck Jr., The Road to Confrontation: American Policy toward China and Korea, 1947–1950 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1981); and Benjamin O. Fordham, Building the Cold War Consensus: The Political Economy of U.S. National Security Policy, 1949–51 (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1998), pp. 115–117.

36. 

Dean Acheson to UN Mission of the United States, July 12, 1950, President's Personal Files, Staff Member and Office Files (PPF: SMOF), Selected Records Relating to the Korean War, Department of State: Topical File Subseries, folder 6. Contributions to the UN Effort [1 of 3: June–July 1950],” Truman Papers, Harry S. Truman Presidential Library and Museum, Independence, Missouri (henceforth HSTPL).

37. 

See, for example, Dean Acheson to US embassy London, August 11, 1950, PPF: SMOF, Selected Records Relating to the Korean War, Department of State: Topical File Subseries, folder 6. Contributions to the UN Effort [2 of 3: August–December 1950],” Truman Papers, HSTPL.

38. 

As cited by William Stueck, The Korean War: An International History (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2005), p. 56.

39. 

Thomas G. Bohlin, “United States–Latin American Relations and the Cold War: 1949–1953,” Ph.D. dissertation, University of Notre Dame, 1985, p. 84.

40. 

John Dreier to Miller, January 25, 1951, FRUS 1951, Vol. 2: The United Nations; The Western Hemisphere (Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1979), p. 938.

41. 

Bohlin, “United States-Latin American Relations and the Cold War,” p. 161.

42. 

Ibid., p. 169.

43. 

Memorandum by John C. Dreier, August 7, 1950, PPF: SMOF, Selected Records Relating to the Korean War, Department of State: Topical File Subseries, folder 6. Contributions to the UN Effort [1 of 3: June–July 1950],” Truman Papers, HSTPL.

44. 

Bohlin, “United States–Latin American Relations and the Cold War,” p. 169.

45. 

Bradley Lynn Coleman, “The Colombian Army in Korea, 1950–1954,” Journal of Military History, Vol. 69, No. 4 (October 2005), p. 1143, doi.org/10.1353/jmh.2005.0215.

46. 

Ibid., p. 1141.

47. 

Bohlin, “United States-Latin American Relations and the Cold War,” pp. 200–201.

48. 

Coleman, “The Colombian Army in Korea, 1950–1954,” p. 1149.

49. 

George Merrell to Dean Acheson, Addis Ababa, August 12, 1950, FRUS 1950, Vol. 5: The Near East, South Asia, and Africa (Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1978), pp. 1698–1699.

50. 

William Hale, Turkish Foreign Policy since 1774, 3rd ed. (London: Routledge, 2013), p. 84; and John M. Vander Lippe, “Forgotten Brigade of the Forgotten War: Turkey's Participation in the Korean War,” Middle Eastern Studies, Vol. 36, No. 1 (January 2000), p. 95, doi.org/10.1080/00263200008701299. See also Memo by the Joint Chiefs of Staff to the Secretary of Defense (Johnson), September 9, 1950, FRUS 1950, Vol. 5: The Near East, South Asia, and Africa (Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1978), p. 1307; and Cameron S. Brown, “The One Coalition They Craved to Join: Turkey in the Korean War,” Review of International Studies, Vol. 34, No. 1 (January 2008), pp. 89–108, doi.org/10.1017/S0260210508007924.

51. 

Stueck, The Korean War, pp. 73–74.

52. 

Quoted in Daniel Fineman, A Special Relationship: The United States and Military Government in Thailand, 1947–1958 (Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press, 1997), p. 117.

53. 

See, for example, Winship to Secretary of State, June 14, 1949, no. 848A.00/0458, Central Files, U.S. State Department, National Archives and Records Administration, College Park, Maryland (henceforth NARA); Military Attaché to Defense Department, July 2, 1949, no. 848A.00/0476, Central Files, U.S. State Department, NARA; Minutes of Meeting with Mr F.C. Erasmus, August 17, 1949, no. 848A.00/0507, Central Files, U.S. State Department, NARA; James Barber and John Barratt, South Africa's Foreign Policy: The Search for Status and Security, 1948–1988 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), p. 49; and Roger Stephen Boulter, “F.C. Erasmus and the Politics of South African Defense, 1948–1959,” Ph.D. dissertation, Rhodes University, 1997, p. 189.

54. 

James Webb to Embassy Cape Town, February 13, 1952, PPF: SMOF, Selected Records Relating to the Korean War, Department of State: Topical File Subseries, folder 6. Contributions to the UN Effort [3 of 3: February-September 1952],” Truman Papers, HSTPL.

55. 

N.M. Van der Waag-Cowling, “South Africa and the Korean War, the Politics of Involvement,” Scientia Militaria: South African Journal of Military Studies, Vol. 44, No. 1 (2016), p. 233, doi.org/10.5787/44-1-1171.

56. 

Curtis S. Strong, “The Dilemma for the United States Presented by the South Western Africa Question,” August, 26, 1952, FRUS 1952–1954, Vol. 3: United Nations Affairs (Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1979), pp. 1146–1147; and Memorandum of Conversation with Ambassador G.P. Jooste of South Africa, Ambassador at Large Ernest Gross, and Ward P. Allen, October 14, 1952. Acheson Papers—Secretary of State File, HSTPL, p. 2, www.trumanlibrary.org/whistlestop/study_collections/achesonmemos/index.php?documentVersion=both&documentid=71-2_20&pagenumber=2.

57. 

Stueck, The Korean War, p. 57.

58. 

Bohlin, “United States–Latin American Relations and the Cold War,” p. 190.

59. 

George Marshall to Dean Acheson, January 30, 1951, PPF: SMOF; Selected Records Relating to the Korean War, Department of State: Topical File Subseries, folder 6. Contributions to the UN Effort [2 of 3: August 1950–December 1951],” Truman Papers; HSTPL.

60. 

For a detailed list of coalition members in the Vietnam War, see the online appendix.

61. 

Jonathan Colman and J.J. Widén, “The Johnson Administration and the Recruitment of Allies in Vietnam, 1964–1968,” History, Vol. 94, No. 316 (September 2009), p. 486, doi.org/10.1111/j.1468-229X.2009.00467.x.

62. 

Initially, the program sought noncombat assistance (medical, engineering, and policy support). By the spring of 1965, however, the focus had shifted to international combat contributions.

63. 

Chester L. Cooper, The Lost Crusade: America in Vietnam (New York: Dodd Mead, 1970), p. 267.

64. 

Memorandum by the Government of Australia, April 11, 1965, FRUS 1964–1968, Vol. 27: Mainland Southeast Asia; Regional Affairs (Washington, D.C.: GPO, 2000), p. 24.

65. 

Memorandum of Conversation, June 30, 1966, FRUS 1964–1968, Vol. 27: Mainland Southeast Asia; Regional Affairs (Washington, D.C.: GPO, 2000), p. 38.

66. 

Memorandum from the President's Special Assistant (Valenti) to President Johnson, January 4, 1966, p. 705.

67. 

Robert M. Blackburn, Mercenaries and Lyndon Johnson's “More Flags”: The Hiring of Korean, Filipino, and Thai Soldiers in the Vietnam War (Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland, 1994), p. 122; and Colman and Widén, “The Johnson Administration and the Recruitment of Allies in Vietnam, 1964–1968,” p. 498.

68. 

Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, Hearings before the Subcommittee on United States Security Agreements and Commitments Abroad, Part 6: Republic of Korea, 91st Cong., 1st sess., 1969, pp. 1544–1545.

69. 

The Korean government negotiated compensation payments with the United States on two different occasions: once for the dispatch of 18,940 troops in 1965, and again for the dispatch of an additional 23,865 troops in 1966. These negotiations resulted in two different compensation agreements. The first included, in addition to the financial compensation, a political guarantee that there would be no U.S. force reduction in Korea without prior consultation with the Korean government. Ibid., p. 1569. The second agreement is much more detailed and can be consulted in ibid., pp. 1549–1550.

70. 

Dean Rusk to AmEmbassy Manila, February 19, 1965, item no. 166, folder “Philippine Cables, Vol. 2, 6/64–6/66,” NSF Country File: Philippines, box 278, Lyndon Baines Johnson Presidential Library, Austin, Texas (henceforth LBJPL). See also Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, Hearings before the Subcommittee on United States Security Agreements and Commitments Abroad, Part 1: Republic of the Philippines, 91st Cong., 1st sess., 1969, p. 267.

71. 

Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, Hearings before the Subcommittee on United States Security Agreements and Commitments Abroad, Part 1: Republic of the Philippines, pp. 31, 37.

72. 

Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, Hearings before the Subcommittee on United States Security Agreements and Commitments Abroad, Part 3: Kingdom of Thailand, 91st Cong., 1st sess., 1969, pp. 657, 842–843.

73. 

Frederick W. Flott, interview by Charles Stuart Kennedy (Arlington, Va.: Foreign Affairs Oral History Project, Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training, 1998), p. 57.

74. 

For a detailed list of coalition members in the Gulf War, see the online appendix.

75. 

See table 1 in the online appendix. In total, the U.S. government received more than $54 billion from foreign donors. Portions of this money was used to cover U.S. expenses. Frank C. Conahan, “Allied Contributions in Support of Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm” (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Accountability Office [GAO], 1991), pp. 3, 10.

76. 

Transcript, August 25, 1993, box 172, folder “JAB III,” James A. Baker Private Papers, p. 12, Seeley G. Mudd Manuscript Library, Princeton, New Jersey.

77. 

Ibid., p. 22.

78. 

Ibid.

79. 

Ann Mosely Lesch, “Contrasting Reactions to the Persian Gulf Crisis: Egypt, Syria, Jordan, and the Palestinians,” Middle East Journal, Vol. 45, No. 1 (Winter 1991), p. 36, www.jstor.org/stable/4328238.

80. 

James A. Baker, The Politics of Diplomacy: Revolution, War, and Peace, 1989–1992 (New York: Putnam, 1995), p. 290.

81. 

Brent Scowcroft, “Meeting on the Gulf,” Memo, October 30, 1990, OA/ID CF01584-033, folder “Haass, Richard, N., Working File,” Richard N. Haass Files, Bush Presidential Records, George H.W. Bush Presidential Library, College Station, Texas.

82. 

Thompson, Channels of Power, p. 61.

83. 

Lesch, “Contrasting Reactions to the Persian Gulf Crisis,” p. 42; and Raymond Hinnebusch, “Syria's Role in the Gulf War Coalition,” in Bennett, Lepgold, and Unger, Friends in Need, p. 229.

84. 

Richard J. Harknett and Jeffrey A. VanDenBerg, “Alignment Theory and Interrelated Threats: Jordan and the Persian Gulf Crisis,” Security Studies, Vol. 6, No. 3 (Spring 1997), p. 137, doi.org/10.1080/09636419708429316.

85. 

“Gulf Crisis Financial Assistance,” Paper, December 19, 1990, OA/ID CF01584, folder “Hass, Richard N. Files Working File Iraq December 1990,” Richard N. Haass Files, Bush Presidential Records, George H.W. Bush Presidential Library, College Station, Texas.

86. 

Baker, The Politics of Diplomacy, pp. 283–285.

87. 

Cameron S. Brown, “Turkey in the Gulf Wars of 1991 and 2003,” Turkish Studies, Vol. 8, No. 1 (March 2007), p. 95, doi.org/10.1080/14683840601162054; and Baker, The Politics of Diplomacy, p. 284.

88. 

Joseph A. Christoff, “Stabilizing and Rebuilding Iraq: Coalition Support and International Donor Commitments” (Washington, D.C.: GAO, 2007), p. 3.

89. 

For a detailed list of coalition members in the Iraq War in 2003, see the online appendix.

90. 

U.S. polls consistently showed that the American public would support a war with Iraq much more strongly if it had the support of the international community. See, for example, Pew Research Center, “Support for Potential Military Action Slips to 55%” (Washington, D.C.: Pew Research Center, October 2002), http://www.people-press.org/2002/10/30/support-for-potential-military-action-slips-to-55/.

91. 

Donald Rumsfeld, Known and Unknown: A Memoir (London: Penguin, 2011), p. 445. Colin Powell made a similar point, see Peter Baker, Days of Fire: Bush and Cheney in the White House (New York: Anchor, 2013), p. 208.

92. 

The Coalition Support Fund (CSF) was set up by the U.S. Congress in 2002 when Pakistan and Jordan requested to be reimbursed for their logistical and military support in connection with “Operation Enduring Freedom” in Afghanistan. At the onset of the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2003, President George W. Bush requested that the purpose of this fund be enlarged to also cover reimbursement for coalition partners serving in the Iraq intervention. The Emergency Wartime Supplemental Appropriations Act of 2003 officially authorized the Department of Defense to reimburse coalition contributions using CSF. CSF funds are drawn from the Defense Department's Operations and Management account. The Lift and Sustain program finances supplies and services; transportation (including airlift and sealift); and other logistical support (including feeding and billeting) of coalition forces in Iraq. See Security Assistance Monitor, “Coalition Support Funds” (Washington, D.C.: Security Assistance Monitor, n.d.), accessed August 20, 2015, http://securityassistance.org/content/coalition-support-funds; Christoph, “Stabilizing and Rebuilding Iraq,” p. 3; and Department of Defense Appropriations Act, 2005, H.R. 4613, Pub. L. 108–287, 108th Cong., 2nd sess., 2004.

93. 

The State Department provided peacekeeping operations funds in 2003 and 2004 to furnish basic supplies and equipment, such as armor and medical supplies, to coalition troops in Iraq. After 2004, no such funds were used to cover coalition participants’ expenditures. See Christoph, “Stabilizing and Rebuilding Iraq,” p. 4.

94. 

See table 2 in the online appendix.

95. 

Deniz Bölükbaşi, 1 Mart vakasi Irak tezkeresi ve sonrasi (The March 1 incident: the Iraq motion and thereafter) (Istanbul: Dogan Kitap, 2008), pp. 68–74.

96. 

For why the negotiations failed, see, for example, Marina E. Henke, “The Rotten Carrot: U.S.-Turkish Bargaining Failure over Iraq in 2003 and the Pitfalls of Social Embeddedness,” Security Studies, Vol. 27, No. 1 (August 2018), pp. 120–147, doi.org/10.1080/09636412.2017.1360077.

97. 

Bölükbaşi, 1 Mart vakasi Irak tezkeresi ve sonrasi, p. 74.

98. 

Christoph, “Stabilizing and Rebuilding Iraq,” p. 1.

99. 

Weitsman, Waging War, p. 141.

100. 

Department of Defense, “FY 2008 Global War on Terror Request” (Washington, D.C.: Department of Defense, February 2007), p. 52, https://archive.defense.gov/pubs/pdfs/FY2008_Global_War_On_Terror_Request[1].pdf.

101. 

Weitsman, Waging War, p. 141.

102. 

Jacek Lubecki, “Poland in Iraq: The Politics of the Decision,” Polish Review, Vol. 50, No. 1 (2005), p. 75, www.jstor.org/stable/25779521. On July 19, 2004, a confidential memo from the Polish embassy to the U.S. State Department was leaked. The memo included a list of favors that the Polish government expected the U.S. to grant Poland as a payoff for the Iraqi deployment. The list of Polish postulates included increasing the number of Fulbright grants given to Polish scholars, helping the Polish military with the integration of six C-130 transport planes donated by the Pentagon, and, most importantly, the lifting of visa requirements for Poles traveling to the United States.

103. 

Department of Defense, “FY 2009 Global War on Terror Bridge Supplemental Justification” (Washington, D.C.: Department of Defense, May 2008), p. 18, http://comptroller.defense.gov/Portals/45/Documents/defbudget/fy2009/Supplemental/FY2009_Global_War_On_Terror_Bridge_Request.pdf.

104. 

Wade Jacoby, “Is the New Europe a Good Substitute for the Old One?” International Studies Review, Vol. 8, No. 1 (March 2006), p. 183, doi.org/10.1111/j.1468-2486.2006.00570_4.x.

105. 

Emergency Wartime Supplemental Appropriations Act, 2003, H.R. 1559, Pub. L. 108-11, 108 Cong., 1st sess., 2003. See also Amy Belasco and Larry Nowels, “Supplemental Appropriations FY2003: Iraq Conflict, Afghanistan, Global War on Terrorism, and Homeland Security” (Washington, D.C.: Congressional Research Service, 2003), p. 36.

106. 

Ivan Vatahov, “U.S. Recognises ‘Functioning’ Economy,” Sofia Echo, March 6, 2003.

107. 

Newnham, “‘Coalition of the Bribed and Bullied?’” p. 192.

108. 

Ray Taras, “Poland's Diplomatic Misadventure in Iraq: With Us or against Us,” Problems of Post-Communism, Vol. 51, No. 1 (January 2004), p. 13, doi.org/10.1080/10758216.2004.11052156.

109. 

For precise deployment numbers, see the online appendix.

110. 

Robert M. Gates, Duty: Memoirs of a Secretary at War (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2014), p. 477.

111. 

See table 3 in the online appendix.

112. 

See table 4 in the online appendix.

113. 

Lolita C. Baldor, “Pentagon Pays to Train, Equip Afghan Partners,” Associated Press, April 1, 2010; and Weitsman, Waging War, p. 104.

114. 

French Parliament Report on the Costs of Foreign Interventions, N° 1790, 13th Leg., July 1, 2009, www.assemblee-nationale.fr/13/rap-info/i1790.asp#P1848_59421.

115. 

For Armenia, see Department of Defense, “Section 1209 of the NDAA for FY 2008 (Public Law 110-181) Report to Congress on Foreign-Assistance Related Programs for FY 2012” (Washington, D.C.: Department of Defense, May 2013), p. 54. For Romania, see Department of Defense, “Section 1209 and Section 1203(b) Report to Congress on Foreign-Assistance Related Programs for FY 2011” (Washington, D.C.: Department of Defense, October 2012), p. 56; and Department of Defense, “Section 1209 of the NDAA for FY 2008 (Public Law 110-181) Report to Congress on Foreign-Assistance Related Programs for FY 2012” (Washington, D.C.: Department of Defense, May 2013), p. 56.

116. 

For precise deployment numbers, see the online appendix.

117. 

For example, Samantha Power, “Dying in Darfur: Can the Ethnic Cleansing in Sudan Be Stopped?” New Yorker, August 30, 2004, www.newyorker.com/magazine/2004/08/30/dying-in-darfur; and Asteris Huliaras, “The Evangelical Roots of U.S. Africa Policy,” Survival, Vol. 50, No. 6 (December 2008–January 2009), p. 170, doi.org/10.1080/00396330802601917.

118. 

John Bolton, Surrender Is Not an Option: Defending America at the United Nations and Abroad (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2007), p. 351; and Rebecca Hamilton, Fighting for Darfur: Public Action and the Struggle to Stop Genocide (New York: Macmillan, 2011), p. 75.

119. 

Paul D. Williams, “The United Kingdom,” in David R. Black and Paul D. Williams, eds., The International Politics of Mass Atrocities: The Case of Darfur (London: Routledge, 2010), p. 197.

120. 

Jean-Marie Guéhenno, The Fog of Peace: A Memoir of International Peacekeeping in the 21st Century (Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution Press, 2015), pp. 205–206.

121. 

For details, see Marina E. Henke, “Great Powers and UN Force Generation: A Case Study of UNAMID,” International Peacekeeping, Vol. 23, No. 3 (March 2016), pp. 468–492, doi.org/10.1080/13533312.2016.1154460.

122. 

Guéhenno, The Fog of Peace, pp. 205–206.

123. 

Daniel Volman, “U.S. to Create New Regional Military Command for Africa: AFRICOM,” Review of African Political Economy, Vol. 34, No. 114 (December 2007), pp. 737–744, www.jstor.org/stable/20406460.

124. 

Nina Serafino, The Global Peace Operations Initiative: Background and Issue for Congress (Washington D.C.: Congressional Research Service, 2007), p. 21.

125. 

Danielle Beswick, “The Risks of African Military Capacity Building: Lessons from Rwanda,” African Affairs, Vol. 113, No. 451 (April 2014), p. 212, doi.org/10.1093/afraf/adu003. A deployment to Darfur could also potentially repair Rwanda's poor international reputation after widespread criticism of its intervention in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

126. 

Danielle Beswick, “Managing Dissent in a Post-Genocide Environment: The Challenge of Political Space in Rwanda,” Development and Change, Vol. 41, No. 2 (March 2010), pp. 225–251, doi.org/10.1111/j.1467–7660.2010.01640.x.

127. 

Embassy Kigali to Department of State, “Rwanda Accepts 20 Million of USG Darfur Equipment,” September 4, 2008 (document available from author); and Sulah Nuwamanya, “Rwanda: U.S. Splashes Military Aid on Country,” All Africa, January 24, 2008, http://allafrica.com/stories/200801240943.html.

128. 

Embassy Abuja to Department of State (AF/RSA) and (AF/W), “Nigeria Requests Assistance for Darfur Deployment,” July 19, 2004 (document available from author).

129. 

Secretary of State to All African Diplomatic Posts, “Africa Press Guidance,” October 18, 2004, Darfur Collection, Rebecca Hamilton and National Security Archive, Washington, D.C.

130. 

Embassy Abuja to Department for African Affairs (Dan Epstein), Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, Paris, “Letter from President Obasanjo to President Bush Re Follow-up on December 2, 2004 Meeting at White House,” December 23, 2004 (document available from author).

131. 

Author interview with former U.S. Ambassador to Nigeria Robert Campbell, Evanston, Illinois, March 2017.

132. 

Robert Campbell, Nigeria: Dancing on the Brink (Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield, 2011), p. 19.

133. 

Other factors such as the rise of a nongovernment organization debt relief movement in support of Nigeria, Britain's 2005 “Year of Africa,” and the important work of a Washington development think tank (the Center for Global Development) might also have played a role. See, for example, Thomas M. Callaghy, “Anatomy of a 2005 Debt Deal: Nigeria and the Paris Club,” working paper (Philadelphia: Department of Political Science, University of Pennsylvania, 2009).

134. 

Berman and Sams, Peacekeeping in Africa, p. 351.

135. 

Don Greenlees and Robert Garran, Deliverance: The Inside Story of East Timor's Fight for Freedom (Crows Nest, Australia: Allen & Unwin, 2003), p. 268.

136. 

Donald C.F. Daniel and Bradd C. Hayes, Beyond Traditional Peacekeeping (New York: St. Martin's, 1995), p. 139.

137. 

Kabilan Krishnasamy, “Pakistan's Peacekeeping Experiences,” International Peacekeeping, Vol. 9, No. 3 (Autumn 2002), p. 113, doi.org/10.1080/714002736. A similar deal was allegedly struck in 2000 for a Pakistani contribution to the United Nation Mission in Sierra Leone. See James D. Fearon and David D. Laitin, “Neotrusteeship and the Problem of Weak States,” International Security, Vol. 28, No. 4 (Spring 2004), p. 25, doi.org/10.1162/0162288041588296.

138. 

Paul D. Williams, “Joining AMISOM: Why Six African States Contributed Troops to the African Union Mission in Somalia,” Journal of Eastern African Studies, Vol. 12, No. 1 (December 2017), p. 172, doi.org/10.1080/17531055.2018.1418159.

139. 

For detailed deployment numbers, see the online appendix.

140. 

Jonathan Fisher, “Managing Donor Perceptions: Contextualizing Uganda's 2007 Intervention in Somalia,” African Affairs, Vol. 111, No. 444 (July 2012), p. 416, doi.org/10.1093/afraf/ads023; and Paul D. Williams, “Into the Mogadishu Maelstrom: The African Union Mission in Somalia,” International Peacekeeping, Vol. 16, No. 4 (October 2009), p. 521, doi.org/10.1080/13533310903184713.

141. 

Richard Norton-Taylor, “Armada against Somali Pirates Is EU's First Naval Operation,” Guardian, December 8, 2008. For EU member states’ attitudes see, for example, Carme Chacón, “Comparecencia ante el pleno del congreso para solicitar la participación de España en la ‘Operación Atalanta'” (Speech to parliament to request Spanish participation in the EU operation Atalanta) (Madrid: Ministry of Defense, January 21, 2009), http://www.defensa.gob.es/Galerias/gabinete/ficheros_docs/2009/090121-Intervencion-Chacon-Somalia.pdf.

142. 

African Union Mission in Somalia, “The African Union and the European Union Sign an Agreement for 165 Million Euros Funding Support for AMISOM” (Addis Ababa: AMISOM, October 16, 2015), http://amisom-au.org/2015/10/the-african-union-and-the-european-union-sign-an-agreement-for-165-million-euros-funding-support-for-amisom/. AMISOM has also received funding from AU member states, the AU Peace Fund, the UN Trust Fund for AMISOM, the UN Trust Fund for Somali Transitional Security Institutions, and UN assessed peacekeeping contributions. The bulk of cash has been provided by the United States and Europe, however.

143. 

Williams, “Joining AMISOM,” p. 174.

144. 

Fisher, “Managing Donor Perceptions,” p. 417; and Williams, “Joining AMISOM,” p. 175. AMISOM also gave the Ugandan defense forces an opportunity to repair their poor international reputation after widespread criticism of their interventions in the Democratic Republic of the Congo and Sudan/South Sudan.

145. 

Williams, “Joining AMISOM,” p. 174.

146. 

Security Assistance Monitor, “Data: Security Aid Pivot Table, 2007–2019” (Washington, D.C.: Security Assistance Monitor, n.d.), https://securityassistance.org/data/program/military/Uganda/2007/2019/all/Global.

147. 

Nina Wilén, David Ambrosetti, and Gérard Birantamije, “Sending Peacekeepers Abroad, Sharing Power at Home: Burundi in Somalia,” Journal of Eastern African Studies, Vol. 9, No. 2 (March 2015), p. 308, doi.org/10.1080/17531055.2015.1018498. A conjuncture of interests drove Burundi's decision to deploy, among them were financial benefits, training, national and international reputation, and building cohesion within a newly composed army.

148. 

Williams, “Joining AMISOM,” p. 177.

149. 

Wilén, Ambrosetti, and Birantamije, “Sending Peacekeepers Abroad, Sharing Power at Home,” p. 316.

150. 

Williams, “Joining AMISOM,” p. 179.

151. 

Paul D. Williams and Abdirashid Hashi, “Exit Strategy Challenges for the AU Mission in Somalia” (Mogadishu: Heritage Institute for Policy Studies, 2016), p. 19.

152. 

David W. Throup, “Kenya's Intervention in Somalia” (Washington, D.C.: Center for Strategic and International Studies, 2012).

153. 

Williams, “Joining AMISOM,” p. 184. By joining AMISOM, Ethiopia and Kenya were able to be reimbursed for some of the costs of their deployment—notably, troop allowances, logistics, and contingent-owned equipment.

154. 

The money would be channeled under the provision of Section 506b of the Foreign Assistance Act, which authorizes the Pentagon to provide supplies from its stockpiles to assist other governments in peacekeeping activities.

155. 

Robert A. Mortimer, “Senegal's Role in ECOMOG: The Francophone Dimension in the Liberian Crisis,” Journal of Modern African Studies, Vol. 34, No. 2 (June 1996), p. 297, doi.org/10.1017/S0022278X00055348.

156. 

Berman and Sams, Peacekeeping in Africa, pp. 285, 287.

157. 

Ibid., p. 327.

158. 

Ibid., p. 352.

159. 

French Parliament Report on the Costs of Foreign Interventions, N° 1790, 13th Leg.

160. 

See, for example, GAO, “Peacekeeping Cost Comparison of Actual UN and Hypothetical U.S. Operation in Haiti” (Washington, D.C.: GAO, 2006); and GAO, “UN Peacekeeping: Cost Estimate for Hypothetical U.S. Operation Exceeds Actual Costs for Comparable UN Operation” (Washington, D.C.: GAO, 2018).

161. 

Blackburn, Mercenaries and Lyndon Johnson's “More Flags,” p. 65; and Colman and Widén, “The Johnson Administration and the Recruitment of Allies in Vietnam, 1964–1968,” p. 499.

162. 

Gaibulloev et al., “Personnel Contributions to UN and Non-UN Peacekeeping Missions: A Public Goods Approach,” pp. 3–4. These annual figures rise substantively in the case of a foreign deployment. It reportedly costs $2.1 million per year for each soldier deployed in Afghanistan. Mike Krumboltz, “It Costs $2.1 Million Per Year for Each Soldier Deployed in Afghanistan: Report,” Yahoo News, October 25, 2013, https://news.yahoo.com/it-costs—2-1-million-per-year-for-each-soldier-deployed-in-afghanistan—report-133150602.html.

163. 

Radek Sikorski, “In Iraq with the Coalition of the Willing” (Washington, D.C.: American Enterprise Institute, 2004). Sikorski derived this figure the following way: the U.S. occupation of Iraq cost $3.9 billion monthly (i.e., an expenditure of $30,000 for each of the 130,000 U.S. soldiers). At that rate, the cost of keeping the 2,500 Polish forces amounted to $750,000 monthly.

164. 

Countries such as Chad, Nigeria, Rwanda, South Africa, and Uganda have all used this technique. Nigeria, for instance, used its deployment to Darfur to quell U.S. criticism of election fraud. In 2009, it threatened to withdraw its forces from Darfur if the United States did not fully recognize the fraudulently elected President Umaru Musa Yar'Adua. See, for example, Oghogho Obayuwana, “Nigeria Reportedly Reviews Darfur Peacekeeping Role over Troop Safety Concerns,” BBC Monitoring Africa, October 30, 2007; and Danielle Beswick, “The Role of the Military in Contemporary Rwanda,” in Maddalena Campioni and Patrick Noack, ed., Rwanda Fast Forward: Social, Economic, Military, and Reconciliation Prospects (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012).

165. 

See, for example, Timothy J.A. Passmore, Megan Shannon, and Andrew F. Hart. “Rallying the Troops: Collective Action and Self-Interest in UN Peacekeeping Contributions,” Journal of Peace Research, Vol. 55, No. 3 (May 2018), pp. 366–379, doi.org/10.1177/0022343317731152.

166. 

For a more detailed elaboration of this point, see Marina E. Henke, “The Politics of Diplomacy: How the United States Builds Multilateral Military Coalitions,” International Studies Quarterly, Vol. 61, No. 2 (June 2017), pp. 410–424, doi.org/10.1093/isq/sqx017.

167. 

Yoichi Funabashi, The Peninsula Question: A Chronicle of the Second Korean Nuclear Crisis (Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution Press, 2007), p. 231.

168. 

Ibid., p. 234. See also Colman and Widén, “The Johnson Administration and the Recruitment of Allies in Vietnam, 1964–1968,” p. 498; and Blackburn, Mercenaries and Lyndon Johnson's “More Flags,” pp. 48–49, for a similar point of view.

169. 

See, for example, Michael Tomz, Reputation and International Cooperation: Sovereign Debt across Three Centuries (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2007), p. 16; Andrew Moravcsik, The Choice for Europe: Social Purpose and State Power from Messina to Maastricht (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1998); Thomas Bernauer and Dieter Ruloff, eds., The Politics of Positive Incentives in Arms Control (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1999); Carsten K.W. de Dreu, Sander L. Koole, and Wolfgang Steinel, “Unfixing the Fixed Pie: A Motivated Information-Processing Approach to Integrative Negotiation,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, Vol. 79, No. 6 (December 2000), pp. 975–987, doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.79.6.975; Kathleen M. O'Connor and Peter J. Carnevale, “A Nasty but Effective Negotiation Strategy: Misrepresentation of a Common-Value Issue,” Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, Vol. 23, No. 5 (May 1997), pp. 504–515, doi.org/10.1177%2F0146167297235006; and Thomas Risse, “‘Let's Argue!’: Communicative Action in World Politics,” International Organization, Vol. 54, No. 1 (July 2000), p. 21, doi.org/10.1162/002081800551109.

170. 

For similar accounts of how weak states can sometimes dominate negotiations, see, for example, Robert O. Keohane, “The Big Influence of Small Allies,” Foreign Policy, Spring 1971, pp. 161–182, doi.org/10.2307/1147864.

171. 

See, for example, Wayne Danzik, “Coalition Forces in the Korean War,” Naval College War Review, Vol. 47, No. 4 (Autumn 1994), pp. 25–39, www.jstor.org/stable/44642693; and Blackburn, Mercenaries and Lyndon Johnson's “More Flags,” p. xiii.

172. 

Jeffrey Grey, The Commonwealth Armies and the Korean War: An Alliance Study (Manchester, U.K.: Manchester University Press, 1990), p. 189; Colman and Widén, “The Johnson Administration and the Recruitment of Allies in Vietnam, 1964–1968,” pp. 500–501; Thomas E. Ricks, Fiasco: The American Military Adventure in Iraq (New York: Penguin, 2006), p. 34; and David P. Auerswald and Stephen M. Saideman, NATO in Afghanistan: Fighting Together, Fighting Alone (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2014).

173. 

Singer, Corporate Warriors, pp. 159–160.

174. 

Scholars of military effectiveness generally suggest that battlefield effectiveness depends on “what states have” (i.e., wealth, weapons, and a large population) and “what states do with what they have” (i.e., force multipliers or dividers that convert resources into fighting power). Motivational factors (i.e., “what are we fighting for”) generally fall into the second category. See, for example, Caitlin Talmadge, The Dictator's Army: Battlefield Effectiveness in Authoritarian Regimes (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2015), p. 28. On questions of fighting morale in peacekeeping operations, see, for example, Maggie Dwyer, “Peacekeeping Abroad, Trouble Making at Home: Mutinies in West Africa,” African Affairs, Vol. 114, No. 455 (April 2015), p. 230, doi.org/10.1093/afraf/adv004.

175. 

See, for example, Message, AmEmbassy Seoul to Secretary of State, February 24, 1965, item no. 46, folder “Korean memos, Vol. 2, 7/64–8/65,” NSF Country File–Korea, box 254, LBJPL; and Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, Hearings before the Subcommittee on United States Security Agreements and Commitments Abroad, Part 6: Republic of Korea, p. 1553.

176. 

Sung-loo Han, “South Korea's Participation in the Vietnam Conflict: An Analysis of the U.S. Korean Alliance,” Orbis, Vol. 21, No. 4 (Winter 1978), pp. 897–898; and Princeton Lyman, “Korea's Involvement in Viet-Nam,” Orbis, Vol. 12, No. 2 (Summer 1968), p. 563. See also Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, Hearings before the Subcommittee on United States Security Agreements and Commitments Abroad, Part 6: Republic of Korea, p. 1543

177. 

Dwyer, “Peacekeeping Abroad, Trouble Making at Home,” p. 219.

178. 

The Polish government supposedly also lost interest in the Iraq intervention once it realized that Polish firms were not getting the expected reconstruction contracts in Iraq and the U.S. government refused to lift visa requirements for Polish citizens visiting the United States. See Lubecki, “Poland in Iraq,” p. 91.

179. 

UN, “Report of the Senior Advisory Group on Rates of Reimbursement to Troop Contributing Countries and Other Related Issues,” A/C.5/67/10 (New York: UN, November 15, 2012), pp. 13–14.

180. 

For a discussion on the effects of intrinsic and extrinsic motivation, see, for example, Roland Bénabou and Jean Tirole, “Intrinsic and Extrinsic Motivation,” Review of Economic Studies, Vol. 70, No. 3 (July 2003), pp. 489–520, doi.org/10.1111/1467-937X.00253.

181. 

Testimony by Johnnie Carson, Assistant Secretary, Bureau of African Affairs, to House Foreign Affairs Committee, Subcommittee on Africa, Global Health, and Human Rights, Washington D.C., September 13, 2012.

182. 

Carol Atkinson, “Constructivist Implications of Material Power: Military Engagement and the Socialization of States, 1972–2000,” International Studies Quarterly, Vol. 50, No. 3 (September 2006), pp. 509–537, doi.org/10.1111/j.1468-2478.2006.00412.x; Tomislav Z. Ruby and Douglas Gibler, “U.S. Professional Military Education and Democratization Abroad,” European Journal of International Relations, Vol. 16, No. 3 (March 2010), pp. 339–364, doi.org/10.1177%2F1354066 109344659; and Katherine J. Worboys, “The Traumatic Journey from Dictatorship to Democracy: Peacekeeping Operations and Civil-Military Relations in Argentina, 1989–1999,” Armed Forces & Society, Vol. 33, No. 2 (January 2007), pp. 149–168, doi.org/10.1177%2F0095327X05283843. Scholars have recently begun to tackle the effects of UN participation more generally. The nature and direction of the effects remain in dispute, however. See, for example, Charles C. Moskos, John Allen Williams, and David R. Segal, The Postmodern Military: Armed Forces after the Cold War (Oxford: Oxford University Press 2000).

183. 

Wilén, Ambrosetti, and Birantamije, “Sending Peacekeepers Abroad, Sharing Power at Home,” p. 316.

184. 

Dwyer, “Peacekeeping Abroad, Trouble Making at Home: Mutinies in West Africa,” p. 217; and Ranjit Bhaskar, “Mutiny Reveals Bangladesh Chaos,” Aljazeera Online, February 27, 2009, www.aljazeera.com/focus/2009/02/200922594224115108.html.

185. 

Kwesi Aning, “Unintended Consequences of Peace Operations for Troop-Contributing Countries from West Africa: The Case of Ghana,” in Chiyuki Aoi, Cedric de Coning, and Ramesh Thakur, eds., Unintended Consequences of Peacekeeping Operations (Tokyo: United Nations Press, 2007), pp. 141, 145; Jamie Levin, Joseph MacKay, and Abouzar Nasirzadeh, “Selectorate Theory and the Democratic Peacekeeping Hypothesis: Evidence from Fiji and Bangladesh,” International Peacekeeping, Vol. 23, No. 1 (November 2015), pp. 107–132, doi.org/10.1080/13533312.2015.1108845; and Jesse Dillon Savage and Jonathan D. Caverley, “When Human Capital Threatens the Capitol: Foreign Aid in the Form of Military Training and Coups,” Journal of Peace Research, Vol. 54, No. 4 (July 2017), pp. 542–557, doi.org/10.1177%2F0022343317713557.

186. 

Levin, MacKay, and Nasirzadeh, “Selectorate Theory and the Democratic Peacekeeping Hypothesis”; and Savage and Caverley, “When Human Capital Threatens the Capitol.”

187. 

Message, AmEmbassy Bangkok to Secretary of State, July 21, 1965, item no. 102, folder “Thailand Cables, Vol. 3, 4/65–12/65,” NSF Country File–Thailand, box 283, p. 1, LBJPL.

188. 

C.S.R. Murthy, “Unintended Consequences of Peace Operations for Troop-Contributing Countries from South Asia,” in Aoi, de Coning, and Thakur, Unintended Consequences of Peacekeeing Operations, p. 166.

189. 

Author interview with Uruguayan military official, New York, December 2010.

190. 

George Marshall to Dean Acheson, September 30, 1950, PPF: SMOF, Selected Records Relating to the Korean War, Department of State: Topical File Subseries, folder 6. Contributions to the UN Effort [2 of 3: August 1950–December 1951],” Truman Papers, HSTPL.